


Perfect Storm

by webkilla



Series: Webkilla's Zootopia Stories [3]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: F/M, thinly veiled political commentary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-07 12:43:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 91,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14081193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webkilla/pseuds/webkilla
Summary: The final installment in Webkilla's Zootopia trilogy. How will the duo handle when shit hits the fan, when the city devolves into... well... its not anarchy, but its an-something.Pretty much every single police interaction with the public and criminals, aside from a few special ones, are based on real interactions. Just remember kids: Prey Lives Matter.





	1. Bitter Tears

“Are we still on schedule?”

“Of course. Just wait for the press release to come out – I’ve seen the preliminary versions, they’re amazing”

“Brilliant – they’ll never know what hit them”

“Here’s to an eternity of guaranteed rule over Zootopia”

… 

Colorful banners with old crests that nobody outside of history nuts knew what meant, medieval costumes with similar details, mammals stomping around in replica suits of plastic armor that were probably horribly anachronistic, those cool old-school round tents and enough knick-knack and handmade crafts stands to attract great crowds of curious onlookers and screaming children.

Nick and Judy arrived early that spring morning. There were very few mammals going about, mainly sleepy looking actors getting into costume and having their very much not authentic cup of ye olde java. The contact mammal that the duo had been sent to meet stood, in a colourful T-shirt with a very appropriate “Zootopia Ren Fest” graphic on it along with worn jeans at the main gate into the fair, the tired and somewhat annoyed-looking donkey waving at the two police officers as they approached.

“Hey, you’re those two – Hopps and Wilde – from that rocket helicopter case last fall?!” the donkey said, perking up at the sight of the duo.

Nick shrugged and adjusted his aviator sunglasses: “Guilty as charged – though it was a lot less about the rocket helicopter ride and more about stopping a crazy lion trying to hose the city down with nighthowler juice”

The donkey nodded eagerly: “Sweet – but ok, check it, this is our last weekend open, and we’ve gotten tons of complaints about stolen purses and wallets – I mean, a lot more than usual. Someone has been cleaning house all week, and the social media backlash we’re getting on Pecker is killing us!”

“That’s why we’re here. We were told that you’d have some disguises ready?” Judy said, shooting Nick a quick disapproving glance to communicate her dislike of the organizers apparent disinterest in the ren fair attendees who had been stolen from, in favour of the ren fair’s overall reputation.

Nick nodded, his expression remaining steely: “Suit me up – this fox is ready for his shiny armor”

“Ya… no – actors bring their own armor if that’s what they want to dress like. No, I’ve been able to borrow clothes for a squire and a noble lady that should fit you two” the donkey noted, sounding as if this wasn’t the first time he’d explained to VIPs or other visitors that he couldn’t just give them a suit of armor to wear.

It turned out that the squire costume was bunny sized and the noble lady costume… wasn’t. At least they were given a tent change in.

“I swear fluff, if I see pictures of me in this being passed around in the bullpen on Monday, I’ll show them pictures of you eating bacon” Nick grumped, feeling thoroughly humiliated in the white and pink medieval dress. Oh sure, it fit him quite well, but it was a bloody dress!

Judy couldn’t help but smirk at Nick: “Hey, I didn’t show them any of the pictures I took of you when you did that undercover thing as an escort last month – and that dress was a lot trashier”

Adjusting her overly studded belt and then helping Nick fix up all his silky ribbons, Judy couldn’t help but add: “And darling, you know I would never do anything to jeopardize my access to bacon or juicy fox meat” – punctuated by pinching Nick in the rear.

Nick reacted with a yip at the pinch – and retaliated with a playful swat at Judy’s ears: “Not when we’re on the job, come on – what if someone saw us?”

“I know… ugh – you need to stop being so sexy, even when in drag” Judy said jokingly.

Walking among the stands, mainly to get a good read on the layout of the fairgrounds and spot possible escape routes that purse-snatchers might want to use, the duo passed the time until the ren fair opened up to the public:

“At least I don’t have to seduce any horny old goats this time” Nick remarked as they passed a vender setting up her selection of herbal flavoured salts.

“True. How much time did Skvisen get again? The prosecutor wanted 20 to 30 for the conspiracy, and then there were the arson and bombing charges he got lumped in with for ordering” Judy noted, trying to remember.

“I don’t actually remember – but he did get a good enough psych eval that he couldn’t plead insanity. Honestly I’m a bit surprised about that” the fox noted as he adjusted his veils.

Judy nodded: “Right, I remember how pissed his lawyers were when that came out, looked hilarious”

The duo rounded a corner. The paths through the tent-city that made up the ren-fair were wide enough to allow for two lane foot traffic for elephants, so there was plenty of room, even more so since there were only the vendors and actors walking around at the moment.

“Ya that made my week. I just wish that the two lions would have been a little more cooperative during their trials” Judy noted, sounding just a tiny bit disappointed.

“Well Miss Crazy was sent off to the loony bin, no surprise there…” Nick replied, looking at a chicken jerky vendor setting up shop and balking at the price tags.

“Yes but I meant we still don’t even know her real name – Nick, somewhere in Zootopia there is a mother and father who probably feel absolutely terrible about how their daughter turned out, or they don’t know where she is at all”

Nick made an agreeing gesture: “Good point. Can’t say the same about Simbason though – his parents were very up front to the press about how disappointed and angry they were about what he had done”

“I know right? And even that wasn’t enough to get him to talk – never said a single word during his trial” Judy said, her tone more puzzled than anything else.

Drawing on his hustling skills, which included a suite of skills for getting a read on other mammals, Nick pointed out: “He struck me as a mammal who had made his choices and chose to live with the results – no regrets, like some kind of true believer”

“I don’t know… the prosecutor never used that thing he had said to us about serving a higher cause during his trial – whoever was pulling Djalo’s strings is still out there”

“Pretty sure that was because the prosecutor wanted Djalo and Skvisen’s trials to wrap up nice and tight. A loose end like that would not go over well in the media if everyone gets paranoid about the masterminds” Nick noted, having learned quite well during his time with the ZPD that the work of the city’s prosecutor office wasn’t just to put criminals away, but much like the ZPD then it was also to put the public at ease – nobody liked hearing about the criminals who got away.

Craning her neck to look at some of the colourful banners bobbing in the morning breeze, Judy agreed: “True, we might have ended up with a witch-hunt”

“Speaking of which…” Nick added, pointing towards the front gates that were swinging open.

As attendees began flooding in, the duo split up and began to mingle. Their plan was very simple, using gear issued to them for the operation: Nick, all veiled up and very difficult to identify as male, was walking around with a purse with a long and flimsy strap. It was made specifically to look appealing to purse snatchers, and it had a nice battery-powered GPS tracker and speaker in it that could be remotely activated to emit a delightfully noisy siren. The plan was thus not to run down and catch the thief or thieves – it was to have them lead the duo to their hideout.

This of course all rested on the assumption that the purse snatchers had a hideout at the fair – but considering that the thefts had been fairly consistent throughout the week that the fair had been open, then it stood to reason that the thief or thieves had somewhere close by, somewhere out of sight, to check out their stolen loot and then return for more thieving quickly. Countless years of combined experience in the ZPD held that this was the most likely MO for the thief or thieves to be using.

As Nick went around, trying not to act too unladylike while perusing the shops and stands, he found himself increasingly aggravated. Nobody was pointing and laughing, no, it was people calling him “Lady Marion” – especially all the children.

Now, it wasn’t because Nick didn’t like kids – it was because some of them wanted pictures taken with him, or their parents would… and that risked blowing his cover!

Quickly moving on, and trying to keep his distance from any kids, Nick enjoyed the smells that were starting waft through the air at the ren fair. Stands selling snacks roasted over an open flame, in delightfully faux-old timey fashion, were everywhere, and “Ye Olde Buggery” stalls selling flame-grilled spiced roach with wild herbs were just smelling so good. The “Ye Olde Candied Cabbage on a stick” stalls just paled in comparison, though they got costumers too.

Judy was similarly patrolling the fairground, enjoying the sights and smells. She hadn’t been to too many similar events before, so a lot of it was still quite new to her, though the public butchering of chickens or preparation of insects was a tad too much for her – even if such sights could only be seen if one purposely walked into the pred-food parts of the fair.

Of course, cordoned off parts of the fairground where nine of ten attendees weren’t likely to go was a prime spot for someone who wanted to hide, so Judy had to check it out… and that it let her secretly indulge in her meat-eating habit was just a happy coincidence – and there were plenty of things she would later need Nick to buy for her to try.

Back with Nick, the tod was finding himself stalked by an annoyingly persistent pursuer. Not a kid wanting a picture, but a vixen in a black and grey costume, which stood in stark contrast to her russet fur. How she had pinned him for male was beyond him; the hips on the dress were wide and the corset underneath tight. Maybe it was his shoulders? No, the puffy shoulder thingies actually made his shoulders look even bigger… the point was that the vixen wouldn’t go away.

“Come on – you don’t have to be ashamed – you look good in it. It’s one from Gilbert’s camp isn’t it? I can tell from the embroidery” she implored, bouncing along next to Nick.

Stopping, and turning to face the vixen, Nick gestured for her to calm herself: “I’m not – but since you can’t seem to take a hint, what do you want from me?”

Looking a bit surprised at the sudden outburst, the vixen shrugged: “Hey, sorry – I just wanted to know if you wanted to hang out later? My camp is down by the waterway, the black rogue camp. We’re planning on having a party once the fair closes down for the evening, and Jim is testing his latest mead brews”

The vixen smiled, her tail swishing around in an excited manner: “…I know most of the men come here as actors already, and they’re all spoken for or gay, so when I saw you…”

“Right, let me stop you there – already spoken for – so while your offer is flattering, I’m going to have to disappoint you” Nick said bluntly, walking off, leaving the vixen behind.

Nick would be lying if he had to say that rejecting the vixen’s offer didn’t feel weird. Sure, being on the job also meant that he couldn’t really have spent any time flirting with her either, but a spunky vixen who looked to be roughly his age, and with a cool hobby? If not for Judy he would have taken up the vixen’s offer instantly…

Over at Judy, the bunny had spotted a rather suspect stall selling ‘love potions’.

The potions were blue – and were being advertised as being completely natural and herbal.

“Hi there, care to tell me how exactly these potions of yours work?” the bunny inquired, finding herself just a tad too short for the stand, forcing her to circle around it in order to get into eye-contact with the badger vendor.

The badger, dressed as some kind of medieval merchant via his rich purple and red robes, smiled at Judy: “Oh, looking for a little something to spice things up with the buck of your dreams? Why, they have a littler herbal magic in it”

Jumping up and swiping one of the bulbous vials, Judy gave it a quick look, confirming her suspicion: “Looks to me like you’ve got some crushed up nighthowler petals in here, and it smells like nettlefrisk tea. I’m thinking N2 in liquid form?”

“Hey, not so loud… what are yo-“

Judy was holding her badge up to the badger: “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to pack up your stand, turn in your ‘potions’ to security for them to hold on to and turn yourself in at the nearest police station. If you don’t, I’ll have a warrant for your arrest issued on Monday, so unless you want to go on the run or have all your colleagues and friends see you get arrested, you’ll go quietly and do the right thing here”

Giving Judy a very incredulous look – though at the same time it was obvious that the badger knew that he had been busted doing something he really shouldn’t – the vendor at first huffed himself up, looking ready to give Judy a piece of his mind, but the bunny’s harsh and judging glare didn’t waver for even a second, crushing the badger’s resistance: “Alright, alright… but come on, I don’t have to go to jail for this? I haven’t even sold any of these yet?”

“Turning yourself in and telling the police where you got the modified nighthowler seeds or bulbs will get you off easier - but come on, don’t make me get your name and address from the organizers and pull a warrant via that. Pack it up” Judy said, 

With hurried movements the badger began packing his stall up, to which Judy moved on, though she did make a note to check on the stall later on to see if he hadn’t just set up shop again, or moved it somewhere else.

…but the brief thrill of stopping a crime like the sale of N2 juice faded quickly, upon the realization that the badger would probably just give the same explanation as all the other small-time N2 dealers who had been popping up all over the city. Online sale of N2 and N1 bulbs had been a big problem for the ZPD during the last several months, though it had been declining: Not all growers knew how to grow them properly, so a lot of crops were being lost.

Still, nobody knew where the few remaining N2 bulbs were coming from, but the best clue the ZPD had was that the three rams who had originally made them had sold off a large amount of their bulbs to various gangs in the city as a means to cash in before they had tried to flee. It certainly explained the large amounts of cash that had been found in the flipped truck during the raid that saw the rams finally captured, but only some of those bulbs had been found so far… and only a very small amount of large growing operations had been found throughout the city. There had even recently been a case in Bunny Burrow of a buck who had been caught trying to make watered down N1 – apparently because he had been picked on a lot in school, and thought if he took the drug he could fight his bullies.

Looking around at the mammals walking from one vendor to the other, Judy couldn’t help but wonder how many of them had an N2 bulb growing in a pot on a windowsill. The internet was rife with illegal but impossible to trace adverts talking about the new love-drug, but nobody was talking about all the bulbs which would turn out to be plain nighthowler… pure N1. A lot of couples looking to spice up their relationship with a petal of love had ended in bloody horns, hooves, and fangs… but nobody seemed to talk about it – nobody wanted to. There was no villain to pin it on, no one to blame, and news about random mammals taking the wrong drugs just wasn’t interesting news… plus it often just looked like cases of domestic albeit drug-fueled violence.

Steeling herself, Judy took solace in Nick’s amazing ability to not be depressed by that kind of news.

It was then that Judy’s radio ear-bud buzzed to life with Nick’s voice: “Fluff, a bunny just took the bait and ran off – start the tracker. I’ll wander a bit, looking for the purse, need to make it look good in case there are someone watching”

“Copy that Nick. Was it a solo grab or a group effort?” Judy replied, pulling out her phone and opening the tracking app that a ZPD technician had installed. Logging in was rather annoying, but Judy understood the safety issue… but every second that the tracking device wasn’t broadcasting, was everything second the purse might get out of range.

“Solo grab, but there might be scouts keeping an eye on me”

Once the tracker finally came online, Judy quickly began to home in on the location.

Nick was sitting on a bench, eating a triple roach-on-a-stick snack, in the middle of one of the larger market squares of the fair, waiting for Judy to call in a location.

“Nick, the tracker stopped inside one of the tents behind a shop near the jousting arena, where are you?” Judy called over the radio.

A quick tap on her shoulder made the bunny spin around on the spot. A toothy grin behind a pink veil met her: “Shall we?”

“Oh you” Judy shot back, holding back the urge to give Nick a good shoulder punch. That would have to be saved for later.

The tent in question appeared to be for storing wares for the shops out in front. A hole in the tent had several paw prints underneath in the dirt, revealing it as a barely hidden entry point. Bingo.

The size of the hole indicated that the mammals going in and out weren’t very big – this was good, since it meant that the duo didn’t have to call in backup before going in.

Judy took the hole, Nick circled around for the proper entrance into the large tent.

“On my mark… go!” Judy said over the radio, bursting in through the hole in the tent.

Nick rushed in from his side, tranq gun drawn: “ZPD, freeze!”

It took a second to register for the four mammals in the tent: A mouse, a dick-dick deer, a hare and a pika, all sitting next to a large pile of emptied out wallets and purses, and a plastic box full of credit cards and cash.

The mouse and the pika were the first to react, but as they turned to the hole in the tent they found themselves picked up by Judy. The hare and the dick-dick were only a split second slower on the uptake, but before they could get up Nick was over by them: “Don’t”

One thing that Nick very quickly picked up on, was the hare. Shouldn’t hares be bigger than ordinary rabbits?

That’s when the shoe dropped: “Judy, they’re kids”

Judy gave the mouse and the pika a harsh but appraising look: It was difficult to tell, but indeed, both of them were juveniles: “Well what do you know”

That was when the dick-dick started crying, complete with his voice breaking, revealing that he was a teenager indeed: “Whaa…. I don’t want to go to juvie again!”

“Well, you could have not stolen all these things. Now, you’re all under arrest. Resisting will only make things worse” Nick said, his tone firm but polite.

While trying to cuff the hare, who seemed largely resigned to the fact that she had been busted, the dick-dick made a run for it, but Judy managed to shuffle the mouse and pika around so they were in one hand, freeing up her right hand to dart the tiny teen deer.

With that done the rest of the juvie thieves were cuffed without notable resistance while their rights were read. The ren fair organizer the duo had spoked to earlier came by, quickly confirming that the four had snuck in without paying the entry fee via their lack of paw stamp. This resulted in four quick photos being taken, along with the four’s names, all being added to the ren fair’s list of mammals permanently banned from future events.

Counting up the amount of stolen loot, with all the credit cards, cash, phones, Nick and Judy quickly realized that the amount of cash alone made the four’s crimes reach into grand larceny.

“Wow, there’s over ten thousand in cash here” Judy mused, looking rather incredulously.

Nick shrugged, giving the organizer a look from behind his shades: “Oh that just makes things worse, doesn’t it?”

Judy understood perfectly what Nick was talking about, having warned him earlier of what might happen if they actually did catch the thieves: A lot of mammals would want their things back – but since the wallets and purses had all been emptied, then there was no way of telling what went into which purse or wallet. Sure, credits cards and other bits might have names on them, but almost nobody had their name on their wallet – and with the cash it was the same problem: There was no way of telling how much cash had been in each wallet… but there was a one-hundred percent guarantee that someone would claim to have had more cash in their wallet, than there had actually been.

“Remind me again, what is the standard procedure for this?” Nick asked, rubbing his temples.

Judy drew a deep sigh, glancing at the four arrestees: “Right now it’s all evidence. Bag it, tag it, bring it in along with the fab four. The credit cards and IDs will be indexed and go into the evidence database. If the mammals who lost them file them stolen, they’ll get an email where they can pick them up”

“Ya ok, but what about all the cash?” Nick wondered, looking at all that money.

Shaking her head, Judy wanted to smile, but she knew well enough that she was looking at hundreds of mammals having their days ruined: “It goes to the city – it’s pretty much impossible to prove how much money you had on you before its stolen. They’ll have to talk to their insurance to cover their loss, but chances are that their deductible will eat it all” 

Leaving all the stolen wallets and purses to be handled by the fair’s lost and found, the duo left the fair with the four juvenile delinquents.

The drive from the fair to precinct one was a solid concert of crying and screaming. The kids in the back definitely did not like what was in store for them – especially the dick-dick who apparently had a record – but all of that would be for central processing and social services to figure out.

After having handed the four over to central booking, Nick finally had enough quiet around him to ask: “You think any of them will do time for this?”

“They stole enough to hit grand larceny, and according to the organizers they have been doing it for over a week – that’s organized and systematic theft. If this was their first time in the system they probably won’t end up doing time. I’m thinking they’ll probably get probation until they’re twenty-one… and I’ll bet good carrots that they won’t be able to stay out of trouble for that” Judy mused, looking a bit drained.

The following Monday Nick and Judy got the delightful task of handing the three non-repeat offender teens over to their parents. This was a first for Nick, picking them up from the precinct one detention cells one by one, and driving them out to their parents.

“Ok fluff, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that you’re not looking forward to this” Nick commented in a fairly neutral tone, ever so slightly unsure of whether joking about the situation, or being blunt and straight-forward, was the best way to communicate his question.

Judy, wearing a frown so grim that one might think she was delivering the news of someone having died, shot Nick a slow look of smouldering fury, followed by a very drawn out sigh: “I’ve done this enough time – some genius from city hall thinks that having small mammals do this kind of stuff makes things go smoother…”

“I take it that you don’t agree?” Nick followed up.

Her eyes back on the road, Judy slumped her shoulders: “Of I don’t – Bogo doesn’t either. That’s why you, why the two of us, haven’t been sent to do this for any other one”

As with several other firsts that Nick had been on, where Judy had tried it many times before, Nick opted to trust Judy’s judgement – and thus steeled himself for the worst. This turned out to have been a wise choice:

The hare lived in one of the low-income neighbourhoods in Savannah Central. It was a neighbourhood of very simple villa-sized single-family burrows, with chain-link fences and rusty cars and broken bikes lining the streets. This was not the kind of place that any mammal would want to walk through after dark… though it did look like the kind of place where social services would visit quite often.

At the door, Judy was ‘greeted’ by a smelly doe hare so fat that it was difficult to see where her chin flab ended and her dewlap began. Almost as wide as as she was tall, the hare teen’s mother was in no way happy to see her daughter again, and without even skipping a beat she simply deadpanned: “So what did she do this time?”

Judy tried to explain the severity of the situation, but from what Nick could tell, then the mother seemed a lot more annoyed that her daughter had been caught, not that she had been part of stealing from hundreds of mammals.

Leaving for the two other teens, Nick understood Judy’s foul mood: “I’ve seen some broken homes… but that… wow”

“Oh I’ve seen far worse. Though there is something we can do” Judy said, sounding eerily happy all of a sudden.

Nick shot Judy a curious look. He knew well enough not to worry, but he couldn’t quite figure what she was talking about.

“You can drop social services a line while we drive back for the others. Even at her age an orphanage with some proper discipline and rules to live by will be an improvement” Judy explained.

The trip to Little Rodentia for the mouse and pika went a lot smoother. The parents of the two rodents were a lot more horrified that their children had been involved in crime – something that the duo took as far more promising signs: Parents who cared, parents who would make an effort to keep their kids on the straight and narrow, was always a good sign.

With their work wrapped up, the duo headed back out on patrol. During lunch, Judy couldn’t help but notice that Nick seemed a little out of it – lost in thought.

“I though I’m the one who’s supposed to be moody and pensive here” she joked, poking Nick with her gulp-a-chino.

Gazing deeply into his locust crunch wrap, the fox mused: “It’s just all that cash from Saturday. First time I’ve ever seen that much cash at once. None of my hustles ever produced that much green at once”

Judy chuckled: “Oh that’s nothing. I remember last year, someone from precinct four ‘caught’ a mammal from out of town, a Saola doe, from somewhere out west. SHe had arrived with a backpack stuffed full of cash. Confiscated it, and they paraded it around precinct one – it looked like the biggest haul of drug money or stolen cash of the year - but ultimately we had to give it back…”

“Really, how so?” Nick said with a perked eyebrow reaching above his aviator shades.  
A wide smirk spread across Judy’s face: “Well, turned out she was a stripper, a really good one… and had to go to one of the bigger banks in Zootopia to hand in that much cash, her monthly earnings. Her local bank had refused to handle it”  
The duo had a shared laugh, with the understanding that it was by no means normal for anyone to walk around with tens of thousands in rolled up bills in their backpack.

This led their lunch-time chit-chat down the topic of whether Judy had ever really screwed up in a case like that: “…and your nighthowler press conference flub from back when doesn’t count”

“Hmmm… no, not really. I’ve had some of my parking tickets contested, but nothing big. Plenty of cases where things turned out to be just… messed up. It wasn’t really one single case, just stuff adding up that nearly made me quit before you joined up” Judy noted, her ears flipping down in tune to her mood dropping.

Shifting over on the bench, and putting a calming paw on Judy’s shoulder, Nick asked: “Want to talk about it?”

“There’s not much to talk about… I mean, I do remember two really ugly cases from just after you left for the academy. They really winded me – tore down my idea of being able to help all mammals pretty hard” Judy said, swishing her gulp-a-china around idly.

Remaining silent, Nick simply gave his partner a reassuring squeeze. Judy seemed to appreciate that, putting her own paw on Nicks as she continued her grim tale:

“Alright, you sneaky fox you… I’ll spill. The first case was at an apartment complex in tundra town. Someone had called in a domestic disturbance, but it was in an apartment registered to a lone senior citizen, so we figured it was a break-in” Judy began.

Judy and her then partner had been the first responders on the scene. The door to the apartment showed no signs of break-in, but inside there were clear signs of a struggle. In the living room Judy had found a very drunk caribou, sleeping. On the floor next to him was a dead alpaca, and a bloody bowling ball.

“You’ll have to forgive me for saying this fluff, but that sounds like a really open and shut case” Nick commented, finishing up his crunch-wrap.

Judy nodded at Nick, though her eyes told a very sad tale all on their own: “Oh it was – but we still had to figure out the why, not just the who and the where”

It turned out that the caribou simply lived on the floor above the old alpaca. That alone didn’t explain anything, but apparently the caribou worked as a dean at one of the largest public schools in Zootopia – and he had turned to drinking to cope with the stress… drinking that had resulted in him going in the wrong door and mistaking the old alpaca for a burglar.

“We darted him and put him in the drunk tank – but after he sobered up… he was the first mammal I’ve ever seen who just broke down completely when we confronted him about what he had done. He didn’t remember anything. He was the first time I ever saw a mammal that devastated. Any other time he’d have been the perfect example of the kind of normal upstanding mammal we were supposed to protect, but there… he was just a mammal who had done something really stupid unintentionally and lost control of himself” Judy said, this time it being her time to look lost in thought.

Giving the bunny another light and friendly shoulder-squeeze, Nick nodded: “Was that where you got that line you gave me on my first day, about police being all about cleaning up the messes of stupid mammals who’d done stupid things?”

“No, that was the second case. A depressed teen had committed suicide, put a hose from the exhaust of his dad’s car into the window. Turned out that during it he had texted his girlfriend, asking for help… you know, wanting to live, last minute change of heart” Judy mused, getting up and walking back to the cruiser.

Inside the cruiser, Nick inquired into why the text messages mattered.

Judy shot Nick a deadly glare: “Because she answered them… said he needed to nut up and commit, not be such a ‘whiny bitch’. Coroners put his time of death about five to ten minutes after she sent that”

Sitting straight up, Nick gulped. Nodding to the response, Judy elaborated: “When we arrested her… at first we weren’t even sure if what she had done was illegal – but the prosecutor was quite sure. Her and the victim had apparently been talking about him killing himself for months, and she had encouraged him every stop of the way. Ice cold, no remorse. She got five years for second degree murder”

“Ouch – ya I can see how a case like that might make you question a few things about yourself”

Finishing their day, the duo returned home and just cuddled with some good movies and some of the very last frozen pizzas from Nick’s oversized freezer.

The next day in the bullpen Bogo entered looking gleefully cruel – this was a bit out of the ordinary for a Tuesday, for it signalled that cape buffalo was about to drop something cruel and wicked on the day shift officers: “It’s time for the annual physical test – it’s tomorrow”

Everyone groaned, though Nick – still reasonably fresh from the academy PE training – didn’t think of it as that bad, and Judy seemed to take it quite well too. Clawhauser, who for a now obvious reason, had been requested to sit on the briefing looked… less pleased.

“And with the happy news out of the way, I can inform you all that Dawn Bellwether has had her sentence commuted to house arrest for the remainder of said sentence. She will be moving into a secure location in west-end Savannah Central on Friday” Bogo said with a stony gaze and his usual stern and non-plus’d tone.


	2. Unwanted Mutton

“I can’t believe you got the transfer expedited that quickly”

“Oh I barely had to do anything. This was already in the works via the usual channels – I won’t bother you with the details, but again, we’re just following the plan here and she’ll make a perfect lightning rod for all this”

…

The bullpen was absolutely silent. Bogo’s harsh glare scanned the officers present for the slightest grimace or scowl.

With a soft fuzzy paw in the air, Judy gestured that she had a question. Bogo nodded towards her, prompting Judy to ask: “Sir, why is she being let off like that?”

“She’ll still be in house arrest. There will full CCTV coverage of every room, and any outside contact has to be approved by me personally with two a week notice in advance. City hall will be making a statement later today” Bogo explained, again scouring the day shift for any officers who couldn’t keep their personal opinions to themselves.

“Uhm… sir, you didn’t actually answer why she was being moved from Stonetusk to house arrest” Judy noted, knowing full well that she might be incurring Bogo’s wrath – but she needed to know!

The great cape buffalo sighed, rubbing the bridge of his muzzle for a good second or so: “The report I got from city hall, said that Stonetusk’s administration was tired of having to waste extra resources on keeping Dawn safe from other inmates trying to kill her. This is purely a cost cutting measure, but that will not be what the press is told unless city hall chooses to, do I make myself clear?”

Everyone nodded, though none of the officers did so with much gusto.

Once the rest of the briefing was over, with everyone leaving, Judy caught up with Clawhauser who looked rather distraught: “Hey Benji, what’s up?”

“Oh hey Judy… do you believe that? Cost cutting? Nobody is going to buy that!” Clawhauser said in an angry tone, his jelly rolls jiggling furiously.

Nick cracked a smile: “…and here I thought you were worried about the physical test, or do you get classified as a rhino?”

“Very funny – McHorn and Francine can’t run any faster than me, and I can scale the obstacle course a lot faster thanks to these” Clawhauser said, flexing his claws quite gleefully.

Nick looked perplexed for a moment, as he felt all his fat jokes fall to the ground.

Indeed, come the big test – which was a mix of doing ten laps on the one-mile jogging track in the spacious precinct one gym, and then completing an obstacle course designed for your size category.

To Nick’s absolute amazement, then Clawhauser managed to do his laps quite effortlessly – the three cans of energy drink he had chugged in advance probably didn’t hurt either – but when he then absolutely tore through the small bovine obstacle course, Nick found it difficult not to just gawk. 

“Told you he’d do it again – pay up” Nick overheard Francine say to McHorn, followed by the rustle of cash exchanging owners.

McHorn grumbled: “Every damn year…”

Judy and Nick both passed their tests as well – though both of them were notably more exhausted from their runs, though Judy did note that Benji would usually crash pretty hard after his test… needing a very long nap afterwards, as well a painkiller or two for the overdose of lactic acid in his muscles.

Later in the week, after city hall’s press release on Bellwether had come out, the expected reactions started rolling in. For Nick and Judy this chiefly meant getting the odd call to go check on the ewe.

The duo had been out on patrol when their radio burst to life: “One-Ten-Six, come in”

“This is One-Ten-Six. What’cha got for us dispatch?” Nick replied, snatching the microphone up while Judy kept her paws on the steering wheel like any good driver should.

There was a brief pause, then a reply: “Go by Bellwether’s place. Check that the protest outside is staying within their permitted location, reign them in if they’ve wandered again – and report any counter-protestors. There has been issued no permits for any counter protests”

Oh this was going to be fun.

The drive to the specific address was easy enough, but the tension in the car was thick. Nick could tell that Judy was gripping the steering wheel extra-ordinarily tight – and he was well aware that she wasn’t exactly thrilled to be coming to Bellwether’s rescue, but everyone on the force knew that with the near round the clock protests outside of the ewe’s ‘home’ then the various precincts were running out of overtime budget to check in on her.

The street that Dawn had been set up on was in the border region between a large medium density residential zone, and an industrial and commercial area. Thus, lodged between an apartment building and a warehouse, stood the strongly fenced-off house that Dawn had been placed in.

From what Judy had understood, then the house had originally been a secured home for foreign diplomatic visitors.

“So… now city hall doesn’t have to pretend that the place is bugged?” Nick quipped.

Approaching, the protest quickly came into view on the opposite sidewalk to the gate in the small but sturdy-looking cast iron fence around the one-mammal prison. The duo counted some four dozen protestors, mostly prey, but at least one third predator. From the signs and banners they were waving around, then their main issue was them feeling that Dawn was getting off easy. There was also a ZNN news van, though there weren’t any news crew immediately visible.

Parking next to the gate, the duo got out and had a look at things. There was no sign of any kind of counter-protest, but honestly… who would protest in favour of Bellwether?

“The crazy lioness would” Nick mused, adjusting his shades.

Judy shot Nick a knowing look – agreeing with him on principle, but they both knew that the lioness was locked up in a mental institution – probably the sort with lots of padded walls, straight-jackets and guards armed with dart-guns.

Crossing the street, the duo politely but professional walked up and down the length of the protestors. Everything seemed in order, and their slogans were harmless enough: “Back to jail, back to jail”

The mammal identifying herself as the organizer of the protest was quite surprised to see Judy at the event – recognizing her as the police officer who had caught Dawn. The female vicuña was positively giddy at Judy’s presence: “Oh, are you here to join the protest?”

“No, just checking on things. Have there been any signs of a counter-protest, or anyone from your own ranks misbehaving?” Judy inquired.

The vicuña shrugged: “Not really. There were some sheep earlier who wanted to join the protest, but they kept going on about Smellwether had done was sin, and was upsetting the natural order – religious nuts – they left after they got upset that we didn’t see things like they did”

Satisfied that things were calm and peaceful on the protest side, the duo returned to their cruiser, huddling up on the side facing the Bellwether residence, away from the protest: Judy had a burning question, and Nick saw it coming from a mile away: “So, fluff, you want to go say hi to her?”

“I… should we? I mean, the two of us would probably just aggravate her. She never met you back in Stonetusk, only me” Judy pointed out.

Taking a deep breath, Judy looked into the front yard of the house. The yard was littered with all kinds of things that people had thrown over the fence – and it was obvious that none of the junk had been tossed into the yard to help Bellwether: “If mammals are throwing stuff in to her, we really should check if there’s any contraband, or dangerous things”

“Judging from the glass shards on the lawn, then at least one or two bottles have gone over the fence already” Nick quickly noted, sensing that Judy was still looking for an excuse, for a justification, so it wasn’t just her own curiosity or schadenfreud.

The bunny gave Nick an appreciative nod: “Thank you”

Opening the gate was easy enough. Their police ID cards made the electronic locks open – to which the mammals on the other side of the road cheered, and intensified their slogan chanting: “Back to jail, back to jail!”

Inside the fence, which towered above Nick and Judy since it was large enough to keep rhinos and elephants out, the duo quickly moved to the front doors. There were multiple, as the house was one of those multi-scale ones built to allow use from a wide range of mammals. The only size category there wasn’t any obvious door for was for mice and similar rodents. Of note, then all the windows had the blinds drawn – though considering what was going on out on the street, then that did make sense.

“Do we knock?” Judy asked, still sounding apprehensive – but then the door for Nick and Judy’s sizes buzzed and opened up.

Entering, the duo found themselves into a nice foyer with a rather unimpressed looking ewe with her shoulders slumped looking at Judy: “Of course you would show up to gloat”

“Nick Wilde” the fox said, extending a paw to shake with Dawn.

The ewe looked at the fox with a piercing and scrutinizing gaze: “I don’t believe we’ve met, but let’s see…”

Judy looked back and forth between Dawn and Nick, feeling really uncomfortable, fidgety even. She didn’t know what to do with her paws, but Dawn didn’t seem to notice.

Approaching Nick, Dawn circled the fox: “…another victory for my mammal inclusion initiative I see. Good to see that they didn’t throw that out as well”

“True, and I haven’t met you personally before… sort of – we had a very brief run-in at the Natural History museum. Officer Hopps was there too” Nick said very politely, with only the tiniest hint of smug in his voice.

Bellwether took a single step back, away from Nick: “You were… no….”

Judy studied Dawn’s reaction closely. This had been a reveal the bunny had imagined over and over, but this… there was no screaming, no gloating, no defiant quips – just two mammals looking at each other.

It took about a second or so. Dawn’s initial reaction petered out, her shoulders slumping down and her posture keeling over back to how she had been when the duo had just entered: “Right, what can I do for you officer?”

Looking at the two, Judy found the lack of grand response scary. She knew that Nick had absolutely no love lost for Bellwether – but she also knew that Nick probably didn’t want to show any of those feelings to the ewe. Bellwether on the other hand, she had been quite animated back when Judy had met her almost six months ago in Stonetusk prison.

Nick shrugged casually: “Just checking up on you. We can see a lot of stuff that’s been tossed into the front yard. Do you have a safe way to clear them out?”

“Probably. I think there’s a good leaf rake in the shed out back – but seeing as I only get one hour outside per day, two on the weekend if I want, all supervised, and someone’s supposed to come by here once or twice a week to tend to the yard, then I somehow doubt that I’ll get to do anything about all” Dawn said, sounding notably disconsolate as she briefly looked out a barred window before pulling the blinds shut again.

Judy was reaching critical levels of fidgety: “I… we can call for your yard service to come by tomorrow”

“Don’t bother. I’ve been told that the sidewalk opposite here has been booked solid for protests the next two weeks… and there’s always someone who throws something” Dawn almost mumbled, barely bothering to put effort into her speech.

Stepping over towards Bellwether, Judy’s heart skipped a beat when Nick put a firm paw on her shoulder. She turned to look, seeing him shake his head and glance over at the door. Judy gave Dawn one last but conflicted look, then she nodded.

Driving away, Judy could barely contain herself: “How can she be so… cold? She’s back in the city, nobody can hurt her? She should be overjoyed”

“Fluff, don’t you see? She’s broken…” Nick tried to explain, shaking his own head. He understood her confusion, having had certain private expectations about his first real encounter with Bellwether as well.

Gripping the steering wheel as if to choke the life out of it, Judy let out a very bunny-like roar of frustration: “Broken? No – you saw her when I spoke with her, what, five months ago?”

“Face it Judy – whatever fight she had in her back then, it’s gone” Nick mused, looking out the front windshield with a thousand-yard stare.

Lunch turned into a very quiet and somewhat awkward affair. It wasn’t until their usual post-lunch bacon snack that Nick broke the silence: “I remember back when, some of Mr. Big’s guys would occasionally come back from prison like her – never did understand what exactly had happened to them, but even if they weren’t bruised and battered on the outside, then they were definitely hurt on the inside”

“Could it be our fault? If she got rewarded for helping us with the N2 investigation, and then the other inmates came after her?” Judy wondered, the quivering tone of her voice betraying her desire to just stop everything and have a good cry.

It was two weeks before something new happened: The protests in front of Bellwether’s one-mammal prison petered out, as the news quickly stopped covering them and a couple of days of mild rain made it a lot less fun to stand outside all day. The biggest news was the opening of a new factory out of one of the old industrial buildings on the north edge of Happy Town:

To everyone else it had seemed like a perfectly ordinary Wednesday morning bullpen briefing – but when Bogo walked, his head ever so slightly shaking from side to side, him mumbling and grumbling something inaudible, everyone knew that something was wrong. As the giant cape buffalo turned to face the day shift, he drew a mighty breath and then snorted it at everything: “We’re doomed”

“Well aren’t you a ray of sunshine sir” Nick joked – but for once Bogo didn’t even seem to acknowledge the fox’s quip.

With a mirthless click of his remote, Bogo started the briefing powerpoint: “The following information does not leave this room. City hall and the ZPD are both under a very ugly NDA regarding the following information, which will expire this Friday once the company holds its own press conference”

Now, Bogo had come with grim news in the past – indeed, with Bellwether’s change in imprisonment, or at a few other occasions when he had to delivery particularly bad news on cases or investigations, Bogo had come off as downright sad – but this… this was new.

This was despair. The usual fire in his eyes had been snuffed out.

With another click, Bog brought up a picture that looked taken from a scanned brochure: it showed an image of an obviously old, but refurbished factory building in the industrial end of Happy Town, with a big sign that read “Pro-Tech”.

“A couple of grad students from ZU and some investors have set up shop in the north end of Happy Town, using some cutting edge bio-tech based on the organ printing technology that started being used in hospitals a few years ago” Bogo explained, looking down at his notes without even bothering to pay attention to what the officers in the bullpen were doing or looking, as opposed to his usual commanding glare that would go around to the room to ensure that everyone was paying attention.

On the next slide there was an image ostensibly from inside the factory. It looked like something from a hospital, with medical-grade plastic curtains everywhere, and fancy looking medical machines everywhere. 

Bogo continued: “Now, while printing out a new kidney or liver has basically erased our health industry’s organ transplant waiting list, then that technology is still painfully slow, because the things being made had to actually… well… work. This isn’t an issue here. This is industrial production for consumption”

“Excuse me sir – are you saying that they’re making faulty organs?” Judy asked, feeling really weirded out by Bogo’s behaviour for something so seemingly inoffensive, plus it sounded as if he was reading off a press release.

Bogo shot Judy a murderous glare that made the bunny curl up on her chair: “Industrial food-grade production. They’ll be cloning meat from various paid mammal donors and selling it for public consumption”

If the bombshell earlier that month about Bellwether had silenced the day shift, then this one… well, it drew some slightly more mixed reactions:

“That’s disgusting!” Francine said – her tone quiet, but the offense and outrage was clearly there.

Bogo nodded: “And it is exactly because of that, that we have been ordered to prepare to send extra officers out to protect the place for its grand opening, and to keep it safe until it can get signed with a security firm willing to work with them. I am well aware of how distasteful some of you might find it, but I equally understand how some of you will find this to be very interesting”

That Bogo had said the last bit while eyeballing all the predators in the room did not go un-noticed. 

Quickly picking up that what Bogo had said meant that the company was having issues getting a security provider, Nick asked: “Sir, if they’re having problems setting up their own security, why are they moving ahead with starting up? I mean, we all seem to get how this is going to attract a lot of protests”

“I asked this myself. The CEO said that their reasons are financial, and city hall has ordered us to comply and maintain public order” Bogo noted, sounding none too pleased about the situation.

Fangmeyer raised a paw: “Chief, forgive me if I’m wrong, but it’s still illegal to eat other mammals right? Won’t we have to shut the place down the second it starts up?”

“Since they’re growing their meat in vats, then it has technically never been alive… no nervous system, no pain, no mind, not a mammal. I can assure you that they checked this with various doctors, judges and then some before starting this. The legal precedent was apparently set when printed organs were permitted for medical use. Right now they have as much a right to do their business as anyone else in Zootopia, and I will not accept any failure from you in protecting their rights, even if you don’t like what they’re selling” Bogo sternly pointed out, sounding decidedly unhappy that he had to explain this, but at the same time then everyone at precinct one knew that Bogo was a cape buffalo of principles, chief among which was an ironclad sense of justice.

With that said, Bogo didn’t have much else to add: Pro-Tech would issue a press release that Friday, which of course was expected to cause all kinds of fun media attention. The date for their official opening was unknown, but Bogo figured that this would be revealed in the press release: “…or at the very least they will hopefully say when they plan on starting their production with the press release – this news could very well divide the city, so we need to be on our toes!”

The next two days proceeded with an eerie calm. Everyone at precinct one was quickly filled in, and thus the calm before the before storm descended upon them. As per city hall’s instructions, then the still unopened factory was put on round the clock protection, only a single patrol vehicle, but everyone knew that that would probably change once the news dropped.

It was a little past two in the afternoon that Friday. The weather was mostly sunny, and then the emails flew out. It took about ten minutes before the first radio broadcasts were interrupted with the breaking news… by half past two ZNN and the other news channels were all over it, and by that time social media was at a boiling point.

The press release had been innocent enough – but it quickly went viral on a level that not even celebrity nudes or pictures of the cutest newly hatched pet iguanas could match.

Looking at his phone, Nick read the release aloud to Judy as they continued their patrol:

“…using technology perfected in the medical industry to save countless lives, Pro-Tech aims to rescue all interested parties from the poverty of palate that all predators have lived with for longer than anyone can remember.” Nick read, a smirk of the ironically amused spreading over his face.

“Using cutting edge protein growth and sequencing techniques, combined with medical grade cell extruders, Pro-tech can produce any kind of meat in endless supply from just tiny donor samples. On March the twenty-fifth our production facility will start up, with a press event, at which point we will announce when we will open up for costumers. We look forward to supplying the city with ethically produced gourmet meat products”

Judy frowned, looking into traffic: “Nick, that’s three weeks from now, right?”

“More or less, yes” Nick replied, putting his phone away.

Thinking for a moment, Judy drew a heavy breath: “When do you think they’ll start getting trouble?”

“Well, they’re in Happy town – that’ll scare off a lot of the more weak-willed mammals who might object to the place. All the predators who live there will probably like it, though that sort of depends on how expensive this meat turns out to be” Nick figured, drawing on his personal experiences in having occasionally crashed at acquaintances in the area before having met Judy.

Taking a left turn, and then pulling into a parking lot so she didn’t have to focus on driving and talking at the same time, Judy turned to Nick: “Ok hold on – I’ve heard a lot of mentions of Happytown ever since I came to Zootopia, but I don’t think I’ve ever been there. There’s hardly any calls for police here”

“You do know that we basically live there, right?” Nick commented, finding Judy’s line of thought rather odd.

Poking the cruiser’s computer, Judy tried to find something specific on Happy town – but all that turned up was lists of wanted mammals last seen in Happytown, or informants, and so on: “Everyone talks about the place like it’s the worst part of town to ever be in”

“It’s not that bad. About forty years ago some big candy company set up a big production complex there, and a ton of apartment buildings for their workers. It was part of the last big expansion of Zootopia, only the problem was that the company ended up running out of money before they could finish things… and it turned out that the apartments were really poorly made, so it basically turned into a big downtown low-income neighbourhood becayse nobody could afford to fully renovate the buildings – and you know how mammals like to cluster together, right? Otters in the canal district, camels in Sahara Square?” Nick explained, looking at Judy to carefully judge if she was figuring out what he was getting at, or if he needed to… no, the other shoe looked to have dropped:

“So Happytown is popular for low income predators? Ya ok, that’s a great place to set up a meat factory” Judy said as she processed her epiphany.

“True, and it’ll probably only make the place even less appealing for prey who don't like what they're doing there” Nick chimed in.

There were of course other low-income neighbourhoods in Zootopia, but Judy had never pegged Happytown for being a mostly predator low-income neighbourhood. Quickly scanning the side-walk Judy saw several groups of hoodie-wearing young foxes skulking around, looking decidedly stereotypically sneaky. She chose not to comment.

The two pondered the implications of a meat factory in a poor pred neighbourhood, until a call came in on their radio: “Hopps, Wilde, get back here, my office” – there was no mistaking Bogo’s voice, even over the radio.

Back at the precinct, the duo had barely stepped inside the chief’s office before Bogo nailed them with a murderous glare: “Have you two cast some dark spell to ensure that this month becomes the worst it possible could be?”

Nick and Judy exchanged quick glances, sharing similar levels of confusion.

“I just got this forwarded from city hall: The two of you have been invited to attend the press event at Pro-Tech's big opening” Bogo explained, flinging an envelope at the duo with a look that silently screamed at the two not to do anything that would embarrass the force.


	3. Flesh Peddlers

“You’re not going?”

“Oh please, I can’t be caught dead near that place – wouldn’t want to either. It’s disgusting”

“Even if they get shut after this, then the cat is out of the bag. Other businesses will follow up on this”

“We’ll deal with that when the time comes. Right now they’re just giving us a nice pawn to sacrifice”

“Your loss. I’ve heard that they’re going to produce their own snacks for the event”

“Eww…”

…

The weeks leading up to the grand opening of the Pro-Tech factory in Happytown were tense. Social media couldn’t get enough of thinking up gory memes or sharing ancient forbidden recipes. The main stream media were throwing fits over the fact that nobody at Pro-Tech were giving interviews or statements. For the ZPD the press release had triggered hundreds of curious mammals showing up at the factory gates, turning the round the clock protection detail from a nap detail to a high intensity intruder detection detail.

About a week from the grand opening Bogo was finally able to report that Pro-Tech had been able to sign a contract with a security company, which meant no more need for the police detail at the factory, though he did express concern whether Pro-Tech would be able to keep that contract, since the security company was bound to catch a lot of flak from servicing the meat factory.

“…and while that is an issue, then I’m more concerned about security for the opening event. Detective Oats, do you have an update on the threat assessment?” Bogo asked, everyone in the bullpen waiting patiently for the detective to present his latest findings.

The horse got up and walked up to Bogo – his cane making a noticeable clicking noise on the floor. Tapping the clicker to start his presentation: “Right – we’ve been monitoring social media and gang chatter. There are still plenty of mammals expressing disgust and hostility towards the factory, but the ratio of it has been dropping off according to our usual media projections as the press release has become old news. This is projected to shoot up sharply after grand opening, but for now we’ve isolated three online communities with aggressive enough members that we’ve put them under digital surveillance. Our main issue that we know that most of these places don’t have all their communication via public chatter – a lot of the smaller groupings use private chatrooms that leave little to nothing for computer crime to sniff up, unless we manage to get something from an insider who gets cold hooves”

Going through several slides, Oats put the immediate threat assessment relatively low – there weren’t any bank or school holidays any time soon, so the amount of mammals that would have time off to protest at the event would be limited.

“…though frankly, we don’t expect the outrage to kick in until after they start shipping meat out. We’ve already picked up several stalkerazzi message boards with mammals talking about wanting to get pictures of the first cases of predators eating prey meat. And my contacts at the bar would have it that a lot of the ambulance chasers and other lowlife lawyers are just waiting to try to sue restaurants for selling prey meat” Oats added, presenting all the fun ways that one could mess with the rolling out of these new meat products.

Wolford raised an interesting question: “What about city hall? All this drama over Pro-Tech can’t all be on us – have they had any funny business because of this?”

“I’m a detective – not a city hall rep” Oats shrugged, turning to look at Bogo for answers.

The chief nodded: “I have been made aware of quite a few petitions to the city council to revoke the company’s licence to sell food product, but they have all been denied”

“What about protests at city hall, against Pro-Tech?” Grissoli wondered, to which Bogo noted that there hadn’t been any yet.

Oats followed up on that, noting that at the moment the few groups and organizations that seemed both numerous and organized enough to actually mount protests worth paying attention to, were biding their time: “They all agree that they don’t like it – but they haven’t reached a consensus on what to do Pro-Tech. They know that they can’t protest it in the same that you would protest against an unpopular government agency or policy. They have accepted that there’s probably enough investor money to keep it going no matter what for the time being – so they’re sort of at an impasse”

The bullpen rumbled with quiet murmurs. While it was good that potential trouble-makers were in disarray, something everyone present knew and agreed upon, then this also meant that the chance for unexpected actions went up greatly. It didn’t take more than one or two disgruntled activists choosing to take matters into their own hooves before things might start catching fire or get wrecked. This was of course a somewhat pessimistic approach to things, but it was the kind of pragmatism that ZPD officers quickly learned to adopt; hope for the best, but prepare for the worst.

“So… what are they waiting for?” someone else asked.

Oats nodded, having expected the question: “The chatter we have seen so far indicates that these mammals want to target Pro-Tech’s customers – make it public who’s buying their meat, shame them, dox them, TUSKing, the works. We’ve already talked with Pro-Tech, who have relayed the warnings to their clients to take precautions. So far that’s all we can do”

Once the morning briefing was over, Nick and Judy left towards the motor pool. Crossing the lobby, Clawhauser waved them down, looking rather frazzled.

“What’s wrong B-man?” Nick asked, noting that the cheetah never looked this stressed so early in the morning.

Clawhauser’s gaze ping-ponged back and forth between his computer and the duo, looking quite tongue-tied. Judy jumped up on the desk, and checked the computer herself…

“Fluff, what’s wrong?” Nick said, seeing Judy’s expression change into one of dread.

Judy looked up at Nick: “The lioness – the crazy one from the office siege – she’s escaped”

Nick scrambled over behind Clawhauser’s desk to check out his monitor. It was an email from the mental facility that the lioness had been held at:

“From Placid Prarie Mental Health Facility.  
To: ZPD criminal alert mailing list.

Jane Doe, lioness, case number 2149044a, escaped at 05:44 this morning. Four orderlies were injured, three are hospitalized for severe lacerations following claw attacks. She must be found immediately – she is a great danger to herself, others and society at large due to her delusions and past record for organizing a militant cult of personality around herself.

Caution:  
The lioness appears to be in a permanent dissociative state, believing herself an ewe and will react violently if her true nature as a lioness is pointed out. She is obsessed with former mayor Dawn Bellwether, and I suspect that she will seek her out – such a confrontation will only end badly. Her obsession can’t possibly be matched by reality, at which point she will most likely lash out violently.

Recommendations:  
Locate and sedate upon apprehension. Keep sedated, fully restrained and muzzled until she is returned to the facility.

Gregory Three-Palms  
Facility Manager”

Nick looked at Judy, who looked back at him. Clawhauser came up behind them and hugged both of them: “This is bad, isn’t it?”

“I would say so. You think this has something to do with the meat factory fluff?” Nick wondered, dreading what the lioness might end up doing.

Judy sat down on Clawhausers desk: “Maybe she heard that Bellwether had been moved to the city – Benji, have you sent this to Bogo?”

Clawhauser nodded, throwing a fleeting glance up the door to the chief’s office: “He’s already sent an extra squad car to Bellwether”

“Well, this sure looks like a really good time to head out on patrol, what do you say partner?” Judy said, giving Nick a poke as she got up and jumped down from Clawhauser’s desk.

Nick followed suit, leaving the cheetah to feebly wave a donut at the two: “Oh don’t leave me like this… he was so pissed when he read this! He’ll be grumpy all day!”

It was a lesson that Judy had learned the hard way, something Nick had benefitted from Judy’s wisdom on, that a ZPD officer did well to stay away from Bogo when you knew that truly bad news was coming down the pipeline.

In this case Nick would have sworn that he could have felt the sonic pulse, the shockwave, that shot out of precinct one as Bogo read the forwarded email. Judy insisted that he was making it up.

The all-points bulletin and arrest warrant for the lioness came out less than twenty minutes later, by the time that the evening news rolled around the lioness’s mugshot was making its rounds on all the news channels.

“You know, it’s nice that they aren’t just talking about Pro-Tech again – but this was not how I had expected it to happen” Judy said, munching on a stick of bacon she snuggled herself back into Nick as they rested on the couch, watching the evening news.

With a month of almost non-stop bad news, the week leading up to the grand opening of the Pro-Tech facility crawled by painfully slowly. There was little in the form of noteworthy events, though there were a few calls to the Pro-Tech facility from the security there, whenever a curious trespasser was caught trying to sneak into the facility – either for industrial espionage or graffiti-purposes.

The hunt for the escaped lioness, named by the tabloids as “Crazy Claws” due to one of the main charges at her conviction was having clawed up and assaulted several police officers during the raid on her commune, hadn’t yielded any results either. The detective in charge of that investigation was certain that she had gone to ground, though finding where she was hiding was proving difficult.

On the day of the Pro-Tech grand opening, Nick and Judy found themselves called into the office of the ZPD press officer. An officer in name only, Jenna Smythe was the PR manager of the ZPD, and mainly camped out in city hall, coordinating any kind press events that the ZPD would appear at, or as part of. It was for the latter category that she had called the duo in.

Jenna, a very portly tapir, greeted her two guests warmly, offering the usual city hall spread of tea, coffee and lightly salted and toasted rye-bread sticks: “Now, I’m sure that we all know why you’re here”

“Has someone leaked that I collect erotic metal worker fanfiction?” Nick joked, drawing a smirk from Judy. The tapir also smiled, but mixed a frown in for good measure.

Taking a sip from her cup of coffee and checking the clock – it was a little before one, and the grand opening was set for four in the afternoon – the tapir gave the duo a very serious look: “Please be serious here, it won’t do with jokes like that when at public events for you two. I need to be sure that you’re both up to date on the protocols for city officials speaking to the public. You’re both line officers with no official training in this, and with Hopps’ mixed record on press conferences, so we’ll need to cover some basics…”

What followed was roughly forty minutes of being told over and over to simply nod and smile, and to stick to the absolutely most inoffensive and milquetoast answers. Once over and out of the Tapir’s office, Judy felt ready to stab something: “Come on… how stupid does she think she is?”

“Beats me – but what if it wasn’t us going to the event, but someone like Wolford? He can’t go two minutes without putting on a silly face, unless he’s talking about something” Nick mused, going by the logic that the press officer perhaps feared that the duo was as inept in dealing with the media as some of their colleagues who were slightly more socially inept in some way.

Judy thought at about Nick’s suggestion for a moment, then perked up: “Cheeses – imagine if Francine had to go… you know how she gets around blood”

“True fluff – though I’m honestly not even sure if the Pro-Tech meat even has blood in it”

Returning to precinct one to change into their dress blues, the duo subsequently drove to the grand opening, so they were there roughly twenty minutes before the show started.

“Ok… this is the most prey mammals I’ve seen in Happytown, ever” Nick mused as they approached.

The legion of reporters, flanked by news vans and camera crews, were huddled tight around the chain-link fence around the factory complex. Inside about two dozen security guards were milling about just in front, and further inside the real event was going down.

Approaching the gate, Judy presented the guards with their invitation, which made them open the gate. A gaggle of opportunistic reporters, freelancers, bloggers and other curious mammals tried to squeeze in along with the cruiser – all in blatant disregard to their own safety – but the security guards gestured for Judy to spot just inside the gate, at which point they politely and professionally escorted the hitchhikers back out the gate – including the half dozen mice with tiny cameras that had used magnets to hitch a ride under the police vehicle.

“Ok, I’ll give them points for being thorough” Judy said, duly impressed.

Nick chuckled ever so slightly: “I’ve heard that their contract gives them a penalty if unwanted guests get in”

Parking their car and joining the grand opening festivities, the duo braced themselves to ensure that they didn’t do anything that might embarrass the ZPD. There were waiters going around handing out glasses with fizzy drinks of various un-natural colors.

One thing that Nick and Judy had debated was whether they had been invited due to their personal connection to their friend the pig Sven Mulberry, professor of biology at ZU, who had apparently taught the grad students who had gone on to found Pro-Tech, or if it was due to Judy still being a very minor celebrity from her involvement in catching Bellwether. Nick’s money was on the Mulberry connection, but that did worry the two: Would this mean that they would reveal Judy as a meat-eater as part of some PR stunt?

It hadn’t exactly been possible to inquire about this directly – the duo had not wanted to reveal Judy’s omnivorous habits to someone not in the know – and asking if they knew was thus rather tricky. Still, both of them knew that Mulberry was clued in on them wanting to keep Judy’s exotic dining habits a secret, so they trusted that this wasn’t about exploiting them for extra publicity.

Inside the area where the big gathering was taking place – a large factory hall decked with tables and chairs, the two police officers found roughly two or three hundred mammals milling about, chatting, drinking and eating snacks of both the meaty sort and the vegetarian sort. Judy found some nice carrot-sticks, which turned out to have been soaked in vodka – even with Absolut Gullerod, then they tasted horrible. Nick trusted his partner’s judgement and refrained from having taste.

The two officers briefly drew a bit of attention upon arrival – city council member Aurelina Canidae, a female wolf with a dark grey fur and a short but stylish red dress, briefly introduced herself and gave the two a polite but somewhat canned greeting. The duo figured that the city council woman probably said the same to any police officer she met at an event: “Hi, good to see you. Oh officer Hopps, are you here to see the city be all it can be and explore all possible business avenues?”

Of course the politician was off greeting and talking to someone else long before either Nick or Judy could reply.

There were also a news crew from the ZNN wandering around the mammals at the party, interviewing anyone who would talk to them, and commenting on everything else they saw, in particular the meat snacks for some reason. When they spotted Nick and Judy the two police officers quickly found themselves cornered and pressed for a statement on the new meat factory:

“Officer Hopps, what does a decorated bunny police officer have to say about a meat factory like this opening in Zootopia” the chinkara repoter asked, looking spending in her own formal dress.

Using a mix of the stock answers that the press officer had drilled Judy on, as well as her own albeit moderated opinions, Judy replied: “It’s interesting. It’s something that’s never been done before as far as I know. When I first heard of it I checked to see if it was even legal, but from what I can tell then it checks out – and if it brings business and good jobs to Happytown, then I can only see it as a boon to Zootopia”

Nick made a note to reward Judy somehow later for the good answer, but then the reporter swung her mike over to Nick and had ago with him: “What about you Officer… Wilde?”

“Well, I for one look forward to finally being able to do as people tell me to, when someone I give a parking ticket says ‘bite me’ to my face, provided that they go volunteer a tissue sample first” Nick replied in an upbeat and clearly joking tone, eliciting a chuckle from the chinkara and her cameraman.

Turning to face the camera, the ZNN reporter commented: “Well that is certainly an interesting angle to hear from this ZPD officer – but it does highlight Pro-Tech’s claim that they can make any kind of meat if you just bring them a sample. We’re all looking forward to what they have to say here in… fifteen minutes or so. Over to you in the studio”

Idling at the snack table, Nick and Judy pondered what to try. Nick knew full well that Judy was in all likely-hood chomping at the bit to try all the seemingly custom-made meat snacks available – but… no, that wouldn’t do. This of course meant that Nick simply had to try them all, and describe in vivid terms how they tasted: “Oh… this one is crunchy, with a slightly smoky flavor – I think they’ve grilled this one. Slightly salty, a bit like bacon, but a little stringier”

Judy tried to shoot all kinds of daggers at Nick with her eyes as she stomped her right foot – bunnies didn’t drool, but she would have if she could.

“Oh really now officer, taunting your partner like that?” a female voice next to Nick said.

It was that councilwoman again, Aurelina Canidae. Nick looked up at the wolf and shrugged: “She does the same with her rancid bean and cabbage farts”

Judy’s butt clenched up reflexively upon hearing that – the bean and cabbage fart excuse was how the duo had originally explained Judy’s meat constipation, back when she had started to dabble in meat snacks. That said, then this was the first time Nick had used it less as an excuse, and more to poke fun at Judy… even though it was also a cover for her ‘feigned’ interest in his snacking.  
The councilwoman chuckled: “Oh ok – though I must admit that I am a little surprised to see the two of you here”

Nick quickly darted a glance down at Judy, then back at the councilwoman: “Why wouldn’t the city’s most famous police officer and her partner be invited to the biggest business event of the decade?”

“Because bunnies don’t eat meat, and for all of your minor celebrity status, then that was two years and an election cycle ago – plus with all the times she’s turned down our offer to become the poster-officer for the ZPD, then I doubt the public even remembers who Judy is at this point” the wolf somewhat casually noted towards Judy as she spoke to Nick.

While the delivery was very much on the nose, then Judy had to nod. Nick found the news that Judy had gotten repeated offers from city hall to be the poster-bunny for the ZPD a little surprising though: “Really fluff? City hall wanted you to be the poster-bunny for the city?”

“She would have been perfect – well, two years ago. Today a little less so. The public still remembers that Bellwether regime quite clearly, but nobody remembers who caught her or how. Say, do you still have that recorder pen?” Aurelina wondered, picking up several little curly fried meat things that seemed to have been dusted with some kind of reddish seasoning.

Judy quickly ate the thoroughly mangled carrot stick she had been holding, swallowed, took a deep breath then noted: “Maybe, but I never joined the ZPD to be famous. I joined up to make a difference, which I did. Plus, I’m not the only prey here – others do appear to have been invited”

“Well that is your choice, true – and yes, Swinton sent some of her assistants are here, reps from the Lemmings Brothers bank are getting drunk over by the bar, and I seriously think that some of the investors Pro-Tech have are rich prey, but hey… a lot of prey are omnivores“ the councilwoman casually remarked, waving her glass of punch around.

Looking at the three very sloshed lemmings swimming around in the punch bowl by the end of the buffet table, made Judy happy that she had taken her drink from the opposite end.

Suddenly the music died down and a fanfare blared out. On a podium a shrew, a pig and a bear stood forth, wearing Pro-Tech pins on their business suits. The shrew got all the way up next to the microphone, and addressed the crowd: “Ladies and gentle-mammals – welcome to the grand opening of the Pro-Tech production facility!”

Polite applause rang out from the mammals around Nick and Judy – though it was clear that quite a few weren’t doing more than a few polite token claps.

The shrew introduced himself and his partners just as a camera feed came on, projecting the shrew onto the wall of the factory so everyone could see him: “My name is Jean Jimson, I do the chemical engineering. Behind me is Peter Greenfields, our resident biology genius, and finally our biggest buddy Ursula Biggs, who heads up electrical engineering”

What followed sounded like a very carefully rehearsed speech about the business, Pro-Tech’s plans and other boring details that made Nick tune out completely. On the plus side, then he spotted a familiar looking pig…

“Hey, Professor Mulberry” Nick said quietly, walking up to the ZU teacher.

Sven Mulberry, the pig who originally introduced Nick and Judy to the wonder that is bio-printed bacon, was filling a paper bag with snacks: “Hey Nick, you got the invitation”

“I figured you had something to do with me and Judy getting invited here” the fox noted, leaning on the buffet table.

Looking up at the podium, Sven smiled: “Ya – but look at them! Greenfields has been my best student since… forever”

“They grow up so fast” Nick mused, playing along to the obviously paternal vibes Sven was giving off towards the pig on the podium.

Mulberry nodded, beaming with pride, then shoving the bag of meat snack’s into Nick’s arms: “I’m sure you have a friend somewhere who’d love to try these later…”

Nick was about to say something, feeling truly and profoundly touched by the pig’s generosity, but the fox found it difficult to think of anything to say as the mammals on the podium were turning up the volume.

The three mammals up on the podium kept talking for a while, explaining some of the basics of the technology they were using, talking about their business plan – which still just seemed to be all about selling meat – along with a lot of self-congratulatory prattle.

The real fun came after the speech was done. The projection behind the podium began showing how the meat-makers worked, with mechanical extruders pushing out tiny strings of muscle fibres, which in turn got collected, covered in less than paper-thin fatty membranes, before they were all joined together into actual bits of muscle. Nick looked at the video as if it was pure magic. A lot of the mammals around him, particularly the prey mammals, looked a tad more disgusted – but the prey that were obviously there for the money and not the food looked pleased none the less: It was obvious that this place was going to make bank… if someone didn’t do something stupid to stop it.

Once the video wrapped up, the shrew proclaimed that there would now be the opportunity to take a tour of the facility. Everyone interested was divided into three rough size categories with the shrew, the pig and the bear each leading the group that fit them the most – though all the journalists and press photographers had to wait: They would get a separate tour later with plenty of photo-ops.

Following the pig into the factory, Nick and Judy walked along with all the other medium sized mammals. There were plenty of ohhs and ahhs, and the pig was answering as quickly as he could: “Oh you’ll have to ask Jean. But I trust his work, and we’ve tested everything very thoroughly. We’re already Food and Drug approved to sell anything we make like this”

“What do you mean by ‘make like this’ Mister Greenfields?” a curious jackal inquired, looking ever so slightly scruffy in his cheap suit.

The pig shrugged, leaning up against some of the large steel vats in the factory hall: “Well, we can program our extruders any way we want. The marbling in our meats don’t have to be uniform… we can write stuff with that. What we got the FDA to approve was our manufacturing procedure – that means we don’t have to get a new permit every time we get a new DNA template to work with”

This answer of course begged a lot more questions – which were quickly asked – to which Greenfields ended up basically walking his tour-group through the production process:

Over in a corner that looked a lot like a conventional bio-lab, with microscopes, and other generic-looking bits of bio-science machines and gadgets, and tons of beakers marked as “Sample” and then with a serial number, Greenfields explained that what he mostly did was clean up, isolate and prepare tissue samples for the growth vats: “It’s honestly not that complicated – but sometimes we run into some fun quirks of biology when we work… I mean, if I weren’t so tired of ZU I could probably do a PHD worth of papers on the stuff I’ve discovered while working here”

The pig continued, seemingly oblivious to how his shop-talk was way beyond what most of his audience could pick up – but when he was about to wrap up a security guard popped in with something for Mr. Greenfields.

Nick and Judy perked up at the sight of the security guard and moved in closer, everyone else looking at the muscle printer going at it, extruding hair-thin strings of vat-grown muscle cells into muscle fibers, building a large unshapely lump of meat.

“…no we told you that you should take this kind of stuff to Jean, not me!” the pig said hastily, in a hushed tone, just as the duo got in earshot.

After a quick glance down her formal police uniform, Judy inquired: “Is there a problem?”

The security guard, a uniformed kangaroo, sent the pig a very obvious “Am I allowed to tell them?” look. Greenfields nodded. Turning to address the duo, the kangaroo explained: “There’s a small protest gathering outside the fence – we checked with city hall: They haven’t issued any protest permits for that”

“Great, an illegal protest – want us to call it in?” Nick noted, looking to the pig for a response.

The pig groaned: “I don’t know. That’s what I just told her! Go ask Jean – he’s the PR guy. I just do biology”

Following the security guard to where the shrew had his tour group. Mr Jimson, the head of Pro-Tech chemical engineering, was busy regaling about the hilarious variety of ‘custom meat flavors’ he could apparently produce via the company hot-tanks and growth vats: “Right, and if we take a protein extract from pineapple juice and add to our hot-tanks, we can make anything taste more like pineapple… no, not like a marinade, it’s the meat itself. We tested it on roach-meat”

“What about fish and shellfish?” an otter in a very ugly suit asked.

With a very casual but no doubt genuine shrug, the shrew quickly answered: “Well, fish is known for its subtle flavour – we have looked into doing the same trick to make fish meat with stronger flavour, but we’ve had issues making what we produce ‘feel’ like fish meat. Greenfields hasn’t quite cracked the secret there yet. And we haven’t even begun to touch shellfish, but we want to make a one-pound lump of shrimp at some point. I know at least six restaurants that will pay through the nose for mega-shrimp meat, even if it’s just normal flavoured”

The mammals in the shrew’s tour group ohh’d and ahh’d quite a lot – to the point that it was obvious that the shrew had perfectly enraptured them all, seduced them with his sales pitches, and sold them on the thought of Pro-tech products.

“Sir – there’s a situation outside”

The kangaroo lady quickly filled the tiny rodent in on what was going on: “We need to know what you want us to do – baton down the hatches? Business as usual? Call the cops?”

“You’re sure the protest is illegal?” the tiny shrew asked, giving the kangaroo a surprisingly serious look.

Nodding, the ‘roo quickly got her marching orders: “With these two cops here already – hey, would you two mind going out and reading the protestors the riot act? If they don’t go away, could you call your co-workers to get rid of them?”

Exchanging glances, Nick and Judy both found it difficult – to the point of impossible – to reject the request. The shrew was earnest, and they had both checked in before going to the event themselves, confirming that nobody had checked in about a protest at city hall for the grand opening.

“You know, as riveting as it was listening to the pig about his hot-tanks and dissecting tissue samples, then getting back to work is kind of nice” Judy mused to Nick, the kangaroo lady not at all able to hide her agreement in getting away from the meat-vats with her nodding as she bounced along.

With a sigh and a look at his and Judy’s dress blue’s, Nick tries to express his conflicting emotions: “I get what you mean – it’s a lot more fun eating meat than talking growing meat… sounds too much like farming”

“That’s one way to put it – and farming meat… ugh… nobody wants to go back to the dark ages, right?” Judy replied, seemingly backing Nick’s statement up.

Exiting the factory, the duo and the roo came out to where the grand opening party had happened. Aside from six sleeping lemming bankers, asleep and reeking of booze, then there were only catering staff cleaning up and security guards pocketing snacks.

Beyond the party zone, beyond the outer fence, the horde of press mammals were still waiting beyond the gates. They knew that they had to wait for the press tours – and boy did they look hungry for that scoop. Beyond them, about a hundred and fifty yards down the fence, roughly three dozen mammals with very hastily taped together protest signs were trying to coordinate their three-word protest chants.

Checking in with the guards holding down the fence, Nick and Judy got an update: “Two mammals from the protest tried to climb over – we ‘discouraged‘ them half-way up by showing them our tasers, but they keep throwing cans and stuff in over the fence”

“Right, and it’s an illegal protest to boot – come on Nick, let’s change out of our dress blues before going over to them”


	4. Bad Taste

“So… this is the first trial run?”

“No, that was sneaking funds to the lioness and her commune. This is the refined model. You’ll love the results”

“We’ll see – I am still sceptical at you claims of being able guarantee results here”

“Shus and enjoy the tour. I have work to do – you get freaky snacks to enjoy”

… 

It turned out that Judy’s idea of changing into their regular uniforms was a really good idea – as approaching the few dozen protestors involved stepping through a series of very dubious puddles of… stuff… that the protestors seemed to have tossed into the Pro-Tech parking lot.

“Eww… what is this stuff?” Judy wondered, sticky strands of the pooled goo dripping from her feet as they approached the protestors.

Nick briefly considered if the reason why the security guards had wanted the duo to talk to the crowd was because of the gunk they had spread all over the place, but since only Judy was in ear-shot he opted for a lewder reply. “No clue, but judging from how its sticking to your fur it looks a bit like… most of you last weekend after we did that thing”

“Oh come on Nick, eww – this is a lot thicker… I just hope it washes out” Judy shot back, straining to keep herself from smirking.

At the fence, the protestors intensified their chant – they finally had a bit of an audience – but neither Nick or Judy were particularly interested in hearing what they had to say.

Looking at the small crowd, the duo evaluated the situation: “Nick, with all the media up at the gate – if we call in a response to this, it’ll be all over the news”

“True – but if we don’t do anything… then they won’t get any attention. You’re right – let’s not give them any” Nick said shaking his head quite dismissively, then turning around and walking back towards the factory, Judy following close behind him.

Back at the security guards, the duo suggested to them that unless the protestors started doing anything more than what they were doing right now, then there was no real reason to call in a police response: “The less attention they get, the sooner they’ll leave. If anything, call the cops on them after the press is inside on their tour”

Returning to the tour, Nick and Judy just managed to get the last few minutes in before things were over. As they left the security guards began being let in, leaving the protest behind with nobody to pay them any attention what so ever.

Driving away, Judy couldn’t help but shoot glances back at the protestors. They looked to be leaving, now that they didn’t have much of an audience, but it was clear that they hadn’t gotten what they had wanted – and so it stood to reason that at least some of them would try again. Nick agreed: “Pro-Tech has money and security. The security company can’t back out without a big penalty fee, and whoever invested in the place want to see that pay off. They’re safe, for now… oh, and guess who scored a bag full of snacks?”

That evening the news was completely dominated by the Pro-Tech opening, all the while Judy tried the weird custom meat-snacks that Pro-Tech had made. Pundits galore were salivating at the opportunity to grand-stands about the new meat products, either for against it, and lines were quickly drawn among both predators and prey. Of course, with Pro-Tech’s products not having reached stores yet, then there wasn’t that much to specifically complain about… yet.

This changed over the next few days: By Monday the first refrigerator trucks rolled out of the Pro-Tech lot, driving to super markets and grocery stores. The public descended upon the new meat products with great curiosity:

“Oh come on fluff, you have to see these food reviews – this is hilarious” Nick said, looking at a zootube video from a cooking channel where the cougar was going nuts over whatever it was she was cooking with.

Judy frowned, looking out the window down the street. It was raining: “I’m more worried about the crazy lion lady… I mean, she’s still out there”

“Judy – we both know there are hundreds of criminals in the city. You can’t let that bring you down…” Nick replied, stretching out on their couch.

The next day at the morning briefing in the bullpen, Bogo came in looking oddly relieved. It was unmistakable – though it wasn’t necessarily a good thing either.

“Alright then – It has finally come, the thing we’ve all been waiting for” Bogo started, his terrible gaze sweeping the officers that made up the day shift.

Judy felt her blood curdle as Bogo’s gaze swept past her. Nick of course just had to crack a joke: “Did city hall finally approve casual Friday for patrol officers?”

“No, but they did approve the first formal protest outside the Pro-Tech plant. It’s scheduled to be five thousand mammals, next Friday from eight in the morning until five, protesting against the place. City hall estimates that maybe a thousand will actually show up, but there will be press and they have the whole end of the road in front of the plant – but they’re not allowed to impede traffic or businesses” Bogo explained, meaning that the protesters would have be herded around constantly to let cars through.

The murmuring were as one might expect, but officer Grissoli – the arctic wolf – raised a paw to ask a question. Bogo nodded, to which the officer asked: “Sir, a big protest like that in the middle of Happy Town? How are we going to keep that many mammals safe? It’ll be a pick-pocket-party!”

“I know – city halls know it too, and the protest organizers have signed off on having been told, meaning that they signed but probably don’t care. That’s why I want everyone on day shift there, from seven thirty – you will be reinforced by officers from the Nocturnal district. Precincts two through six will be lending us patrols to cover downtown for the day” Bogo noted, sounding very much as if he did not want to hear any kind of objections or comments on how things had been planned.

Judy meekly raised a paw. Bogo nodded at her, to which Nick lightly jabbed her with his elbow to get her to actually respond: “Sir – Happy Town is mostly predators. Do we know what the make-up of the protestors will be? I mean, if a bunch of mammals showed up and started protesting some new fruit factory right next door to me, then… you know”

“I know – and as so does city hall: They agree that this is a blatant attempt at provoking the local predators into a fight, so the mammals against Pro-Tech can claim to have been assaulted by violent meat-eaters – of course the protest organizers have promised that they won’t do anything illegal like that, hence why I’m committing the whole day shift to this. You’ll be protecting the protestors from the locals, and the locals from the protestors – there’ll be barricades set up, and I want the protestors to stay on their side of them”

Thus the first Pro-Tech protest came to be. The day before city hall rolled out the barricades, a mix of concrete barriers and steel fence sections. It was a chilly spring morning the next day when ZPD’s day shift arrived, parking along the side of the road.

Sergeant McHorn had command, and he distributed everyone reasonable evenly: “Alright – we don’t know where they’ll cluster, but we know they will. We’re numbering three dozen, at a ninety after scale, so we should be able to handle anything thrown at us”

The rhino began ordering officers around to various key points and delegating radio frequencies, resulting in Nick and Judy being sent down the street to the tail end of the protest area along with Officer Trunkaby and a pole-cat officer from the Nocturnal district who seemed somewhat unhappy with being awake during the daylight hours.

“Hey Francine, McHorn said ‘ninety after scale’ – what did he mean by that?” Nick asked, while Judy scouted for a coffee shop to liven up the nocturnal officer.

The elephant looked as Judy quickly scampered off to a small coffee shop half a block down the street: “Oh, that’s just our after-scale count – didn’t they teach you about that at the academy?”

“Probably – but it’s been a while since I had the written exam on that” Nick said, shrugging as he scanned the street. There weren’t any sign of any protestors yet, or any media… where were they?

Scratching the brow of her trunk with her tip of her trunk, Francine let out a light chuckle: “Oh it’s easy – it’s just how many ‘average officers’ we amount to after you factor in size. Like, you’re probably a half, but I’m a ten or twelve I think”

“Really? What would that make Judy? The fox wondered, looking at the storefronts lining the street.

Francine thought about the question, trying to recall the formula for calculating the right number – but like Nick, then it had been a long time since she had actually studied the darn thing: “Hmm I… hey”

“Look!” Nick said with a great sense of urgency, having grabbing Francine’s trunk and pointing towards a shop a bit down the street: “…did the protest organizers say anything that?”

“About wha- oh…. Oh no, I don’t think so – let me call McHorn down” Francine said, looking at what Nick was pointing at.

Returning with three cups of coffee, Francine’s being both too big for Judy to carry (Read: bigger than Judy) and the shop needing more time to brew enough coffee to fill a jumbo-cup, Judy quickly noticed that Nick and Francine were looking at… oh boy.

“Hey I got the coffee – Francine you’ll have to go pick up yours… oh we’re next to a butcher shop” Judy said, handing out the coffee, the pole-cat ignoring everything around him except his steaming cup of joe.

The butcher-shop that Pro-Tech had announced that it was partnering with, to sell low-grade printed meat on the cheap – from production runs where something had gone wrong – was right there. It even had a big sign in the window advertising “We sell Pro-Tech mystery meat – guess what it’s supposed to be for 15% off”

“Sarge – the butcher shop down here sells Pro-Tech meat… is that covered by the protest permit?” Francine said over the radio.

The rhino and a handful of other officers came down the street to the group. McHorn did not look happy.

“Sir – you said we’re the rearguard for the protest – but this place actually sells Pro-Tech meat, and it’s just behind us” Judy quickly stated, just as five news-vans rounded the corner and drove in convoy towards the gate into the Pro-Tech lot outside the plant.

McHorn grimaced: “The protest permit was for Pro-Tech only, with extra room down the street – none of the shops here are included in the permit for protect activity, that’s why the barricades are set up to hold the protest on the street, not the sidewalk”

“Ya we got that much from Bogo back at the precinct – but come on, there’ll be someone who’ll want to picket this place too” Nick said, unhappy that this hadn’t been factored into the police response. 

Rubbing his brow, McHorn took a deep breath: “Herd them back to the main protest. If they cluster here, I’ll send down more officers to help out”

The rhino’s tone was very… Bogo – it had that unmistakable unspoken request not to be questioned or gainsaid. Francine, Judy, Nick and the by now reasonably alert pole-cat nodded in agreement, even if they didn’t like what they had been told. Despite her coffee, Nick couldn’t help but notice that Judy looked a bit more tired…

It was a little before nine when the first protestors showed up. The comparably large police force to the half dozen picketers made for some choice media photo-ops, and the protestors were all too happy to let the press photographers have a run of the place. Both Nick and Judy had agreed to do their best to ignore the protestors’ slogans and whatnot – they both knew their stance on the topic, and knew that random mammals protesting the factory wasn’t going to shut it down. Francine was a little more amused, commenting on some of the slogans: “Well that’s not very creative… ‘meat is murder’ – oh please, I’ve been to the fish markets in Tundratown”. The pole-cat seemed to agree with the elephant.

Around ten there were about thirty protestors, and McHorn sent a heads-up around via radio that a group of four suspicious looking jackals looked to be casing the protestors.

“Looking for fat purses to lighten?” Francine wondered out loud.

Quickly climbing up a sign-pole, the pole-cat spotted the group: “Could be – they’re certainly could be looking for marks… they’re not looking at the protestors with disgust or anything, them’s hungry looks”

Nick grimaced ever so slightly, hoping that they wouldn’t come down to their end of the street – and ten minutes later the fox breathed a sigh of relief, the four jackals leaving after they realized that all the cops were looking at them…

By eleven a van with lunch arrived from precinct one’s cafeteria, much needed supplies getting passed around quickly.

“Hey fluff, when do you think the actual protest will show up? I mean… it’s almost noon, and we still outnumber the protestors almost three to one” Nick inquired, feeling quite bored – a sentiment that most of the officers on the street seemed to be sharing.

Looking in the direction of the nearest metro station and seeing nothing, Judy cautiously replied: “I don’t know – I seriously thought we’d have hundreds of mammals here already”

“Oh come on you two – you should have figured this when we showed up. They’ll be here in an hour, and then we’ll get a second push between three and five” Francine said, sounding oddly amused by Nick and Judy’s lack of understanding.

The pole-cat seemed to similarly get what Francine was talking about, looking very intently in the direction of the nearest metro station. About an hour or so later their cryptic logic became obvious: Students.

The first massive wave of protestors that showed up was from ZU. It were students who had just gotten out of class around noon. There were hundreds, of every size and shape, but pretty much exclusively prey. The Jackals also came back, trying to get into the protest cordon, looking hungrily at fat student backpacks full of laptops and expensive textbooks that would sell well on the second-hand market. Quite a few hustlers found themselves politely turned away by Nick’s steely aviator-shades-enhanced gaze.

The second wave was more spread out, with more ZU students arriving between four and five thirty. At this point Nick, Judy, Francine and everyone else from the day shift were more than ready to wrap up and ship out whenever the evening shift would show up to take over… but Bogo hadn’t said anything about the evening shift taking over from them. Oh the joys of overtime.

The second wave of students also seemed better prepared in a sense – they had nicer signs and placards, better protest gear – and more catchy slogans and chants: “Prey lives matter”

“Really? Are they saying that the stuff Pro-Tech makes is ever really alive?” Judy commented, finding the whole thing rather silly.

Nick frowned, disappointed that Judy had failed to refrain from commenting on what the protestors were saying: “You got the same tour I did – that stuff never had a pulse, and is only alive if you count cell-division… and if you do then you’d have to say that bacteria and booger lives matter too” 

“Well I’m sure if Pro-Tech tried to make giant veggies then these chumps would protest that too” Judy joked, appearing quite happy for the brief moment of amusement – but sadly a number of newly arrived protestors overheard her, landing the doe several nasty glares.

As the moment of absolute embarrassment passed, Judy unfroze. Nick walked over to her, giving her a friendly pat on the shoulder: “Good joke, but wrong time and place”

“Can’t this day just end…” Judy groaned, leaning into Nick’s hand on her shoulder.

The sound of an elephant shifting her feet was one that pretty much all smaller mammals learned from a reasonably young age – so when Francine suddenly shifted around Nick, Judy and the pole-cat sprung to attention: “Hey, the protest is over this way”

The looks from the mix of students holding “meat is murder” and “Prey lives matter” signs aimed at the elephant were not kind, but as the three other police officers came up next to her they nodded and moved away from the butcher shop, towards the main protest.

“You know, I honestly thought we’d have had more protestors here at the butcher by now” Nick noted, sounding only mildly baffled – he wasn’t going to question their good luck.

A little less than an hour or so later the Pro-Tech plant sounded a delightfully archaic steam-whistle, and a few minutes later about four dozen factory workers and scientists came out to their cars in the parking-lot in front of the plant. At the same time, the factory’s evening shift arrived to take over. That the place was already running triple shifts did come as a bit of a surprise, but the evening shifts was only about half a dozen or so workers, so it was probably mammals meant to baby-sit the growth-vats during the evening.

All of this prompted quite a bit of commotion from the protestors, as the cars going in and out of the plant had to go through the protest… because the protest was scheduled to end at five, which was over half an hour ago, but not that many had left.

“This is McHorn to all officers. We need to clear a route for the cars going in and out of the plant. The protest is officially over, but they aren’t leaving. I don’t want to start rolling out the riot gear, but I’ve given the organizers five minutes to clear a path. Everyone get into position to lead cars in and out of the crowd: Everyone west of the record-shop head to the far end of the protest and group up with Trunkaby and Hopps for the incoming vehicles. Everyone else get up in front of the gate”

Nick and Judy of course couldn’t see what was going on at the plant-end of the protest, but within a minute or two it was obvious that some kind of word of mouth or social media update had spread throughout the protestors in their end, causing everyone to move towards the gate. The cars coming towards the protest area had already lined up, but more were coming as many of the locals who could afford cars were coming home from work. The foot traffic around the protest cordon had also gone up with more locals returning from work, resulting in an increase in predators looking at the protestors – who were largely all prey.

“Judy, are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Nick asked over the radio, his gaze darting back and forth between the annoyed mammals in their cars and the rather uncooperative protestors from behind his sunglasses.

Busy jumping around between cars, trying to calm down the annoyed drivers while also asking them to roll up their windows, Judy wasn’t really sure what Nick was seeing: “I can see twenty cars lined up full of mammals that want to go to work or go home. Am I missing something?”

“The protestors look like they’re realized that we’re up to something in this end – and Francine can see that McHorn has not managed to clear much of a path in his end – how are we going to get these cars through?” Nick replied.

His inexperience as a police officer revealing the source of his worries, the pole-cat quickly came up next to Nick: “Chill Wilde – this is what we have officer Trunkaby for”

“Am I still relatively new at this? Yes, yes I am – but I still think that it’s a little optimistic to think that we can get four hundred students chanting ‘meat is murder’ to part way when we’re trying to let in the next shift to the factory” Nick noted, not wanting to see four hundred angry prey stampeding all over the place, as the fox was ultimately a lot more squishy than the mammals that would come running at him.

The pole-cat, demonstrating a remarkable level of chill, spoke in a calm tone: “Trust me – when an elephant starts leading a procession, you get out the way and you stand and watch”

To say that Nick was sceptic would have been a gross understatement, but as Judy returned and McHorn gave the signal, Francine got up and simply began leading the cars in through the protest cordon. The elephant walked with heavy foot-falls, ensuring that every mammal in a fifty foot radius could feel her coming before they could even hear her – and as if by some feat of dark sorcery, the protestors parted way.

Walking along-side the convoy of cars, ensuring that holes were made when a car had to veer off to park where the driver lived, Nick marvelled at how smooth things were going. Then again, it seemed that the protestors were quite understanding that it was locals simply coming home from work – they had no beef with them.

This lasted right until Francine got to the Pro-Tech plant, and McHorn and the other officers linked up with the rear-guard convoy – when the gate into the Pro-Tech lot swung open and the cars started heading into the lot…

The crowd erupted into a frenzy as someone with a shrill voice that pierced the ever-present murmur of noises and voices shouted: “They’re heading into the meat-factory! Traitors!”

The sudden push on the police line towards the convoy of cars pretty much instantly squeezed the duo up against the cars they were protecting. It was impossible to keep the rush of protestors away from the cars, and with that they were banging on the hoods of the cars, shouting, screaming, making rude gestures and generally terrifying the drivers.

The worst was the cars in the rear – the lone pole-cat was up on the trunk of the rear car, fending off protestors trying to rush the car with a taser – but the tiny pole-cat could do little to guard all of the rear of the wolf-sized sedan. The sound of head and rear-lights getting smashed came with regular intervals, along with the plinks and tonks of things bouncing off the cars or their windows.

The few rodent cars in the convoy were easily able to drive under the other larger cars into the safety of the plant lot, and while the whole commotion barely lasted twenty seconds, then by the time the last medium sized car got inside McHorn’s cordon it looked like it had come out of a warzone.

With no more cars to wail on, the suddenly enraged crowd turned to the police officers who had been trying to protect the cars – and with no real riot gear, the officers could do little but seek refuge behind the Pro-Tech plant gate, the chain-link fence shielding them from the half-empty coffee cups and other random things the protestors were throwing. That said, then the gate did nothing to shield the officers from the things being shouted at them: “Traitors!” “Meat-fascists!”

Catching her breath, Judy looked to Nick who seemed to sporting a nice fresh mocha latte fur coating. The tossed drink was still dripping off the fox: “You ok Nick?”

It was difficult to hear much; the shouting from the protestors, their banging against the fence making it rattle quite loudly, but Nick none the less nodded, showing Judy the offending coffee cup: “Sure – but seriously, Stagbucks? It might be crap coffee, but it’s also overpriced coffee – whoever tossed this threw away a good five to ten bucks with this”

Judy couldn’t hear a word Nick was saying, someone on the protest side of the fence having fired up a bullhorn.

“I have called in backup in riot gear – ETA fifteen minutes! Make sure they don’t topple the fence!” McHorn called out over the radio.

Fifteen minutes was a long time for a small riot to trash low income predator neighbourhood – and all the ZPD officers could do was watch, being outnumbered some twenty to one and most of them being rather tired from having been there all day. It was difficult to tell if any of the locals fought back to defend their property.

Looking for a quiet place a bit away from all the noise, the duo walked away from the gate – they were too small to help push back against the protestors up against the fence anyway.

“No dear, I don’t know when I’ll be home… there was a protest, but now it’s like a riot – oh you’re seeing it on the news? What are they saying? Oh that’s hooey dear, this is a riot! Even the police here are scared” the duo heard a Pro-Tech worker say to someone over the phone next to his car further into the parking lot.

With no proper riot-gear of their own, all the officers on the inside of the fence could only watch as their backup arrived. Bogo looked grand in his riot kit, and both Nick and Judy recognized the load-out from the office siege.

“This is Bogo – move away from the gate on my mark. Tear-gas in twenty seconds” it sounded over the radio.

That was all the warning the ZPD officers got over the radio – and it was more than enough. A generous helping of tear-gas canisters were shot and flung into the mass of mammals at the gate. The effect was very immediate, and within seconds riot-clad ZPD officers wearing gas-masks were hauling away rioters, with evening news cameras getting it all.

“Well this could have gone better” Nick noted, shaking his head at the mayhem outside the fence. The tear-full screams of mammals Judy’s age, the scattered howls of the few still able to shout anti-meat slogans, and the rising background-noise of at least two hundred mammals trying to escape the clouds of eye, nose and mouth pain made for a depressing sight.

Sitting down on the ground with a clear expression of exhaustion and lack of any kind of power to help the current situation, Judy looked up at Nick, then over at the Pro-Tech workers in their cars waiting for an opportunity to leave: “Are we going to have to do this every day when they try to go home?”

“I hope not – I mean, I can’t imagine city hall approving new protests here if the organisers can’t guarantee that it won’t turn into a riot” Nick mused, not being entirely certain on how city hall made their risk assessments, plus it required a tricky evaluation of freedom of speech versus maintaining public order.

Judy could only nod, adding that she regretted not paying more attention to the protest itself: “Maybe I could have seen it coming – heard someone inciting the riot and we could have nipped it in the bud”

Once the all-clear was sounded and the gate to the plant re-opened, the remaining workers that were going home finally managed to drive out into the largely dispersed and faded clouds of tear gas. The smell of onion from the gas would probably hang in the air for days, or until the next time it would rain.

The next Monday Bogo had a grand ol’ debriefing of the riot during the morning meeting – he was not happy. In fact, it would have been quite reasonable to argue that he was quite furious, but his rage seemed tempered by something:

“First of all, the damage report from the riot. Smashed storefronts, a little looting, seven hamsters had their cars stepped on, clean-up from all the crud that was thrown at us... it’s a little over sixty thousand” Bogo stated, reading from his notes.

Judy tentatively raised a paw: “Who is going to pay that bill sir?”

At first Bogo looked as if he was about to go off on Judy for daring to ask the question, but then he calmed down – ever so slightly, though his face soured greatly at the same time: “Nobody is. Normally it would be the protest organizers who would get the bill for failing to keep the peace and end the protest properly, but I’ve already spoken with their lawyer who assured me that the organization she represents simply don’t have the money for that – but simply saying that you can’t pay doesn’t mean that you won’t get the bill. Hopps, Wilde, when we’re done here run by city hall to get the paperwork and then hand the bill to these jokers. Make sure someone signs off on it”

For a brief moment Nick felt as if Bogo had given him and Judy that particular task out of spite, simply because she had asked that question – but he then followed that up by handing out tasks to everyone else, so it had probably just been because she had been on his mind when he had switched to delegation-mode.

The paperwork at city hall wasn’t much. It was five printed pages sized for a mammal slightly larger than a fox, but still manageable for Nick to carry around when folded up. It was mostly legalese, with some lovely “pay up or you go to jail” language.

Rolling up at the office farm where the advocacy organization was registered, Nick adjusted his aviators as the duo approached the front door. Judy looked at the sign in front of the building: “Office farm? Really? Do they grow businesses here?”

“Maybe. Some of these places are called business incubators, though that’s a little different – here it’s just about renting a single office or two for small businesses” Nick noted as he stepped inside, quickly spotting and scanning the map of the building so they could find the ‘Sunshine Meadows Advocacy Group’ and present the mammals there with the bill for the riot.

The sole office the Sunshine Meadow group looked remarkably unremarkable. There were some painfully generic posters featuring stylized renditions of smiling suns, flowers and prey mammals holding hands. There were some filing cabinets along the far wall, a couple of boxes with what looked like freshly printed flyers and pamphlets, and in the middle there was a small desk with an old computer on it, and a very casual looking goat behind that computer who was typing and clicking away.

Nodding at Judy for her to lead the charge, Judy cleared her throat loudly: “Ahem”

The goat looked up, adjusting his glasses: “Oh – whoa, hey officers – what can I do for you?” 

“We are here on behalf of the city of Zootopia to present the Sunshine Meadow group with the bill for the cleanup of the riot you caused last week” Judy said, sounding none to happy to be the bearer of bad news.

As with many other mammals that Nick had observed, both as a hustler, but now also as a police officer, the fox carefully observed the goat’s reaction as Judy jumped up on the desk and gave the goat the paperwork. The goat did not seem surprised, not that he got the bill, though his verbal reaction hinted of something else: “Wow ok… that didn’t take long”

“There was a lot of media attention on this. City hall would like this resolved as quickly as possible. You can contact them directly to sort out the payment transfer” Judy explained, happy that the goat wasn’t upset. Nick frowned… the goat’s reaction was far too calm.

Quickly skimming the paperwork, the goat simply shrugged with a displeased grimace: “Oh but I can’t pay this – the Sunshine Meadow group is a non-profit, a charity. I can barely get enough funds to rent this office. I’ll have to file the group bankrupt…”


	5. Speak Not With Your Mouth Full

“I have to admit. This is a really smart scape-goat system you’ve set up”

“And unlike Bellwether or that moron movie goat, then the system is completely isolated from us. No way to trace it back to us”

“Perfect, but now we have to set up a new ‘charity’ to book the protests”

“Oh please. We have modern technology for that – I had an intern cook up a script that fills out the online forms automatically. Officially it was just to stress-test the system, but you know…”

“Amazing” 

…

“You should have thought about that when you failed to end the protest at Pro-Tech – that riot damaged a lot of shops, and a lot of cars, none of which had anything to do with Pro-Tech” Nick said firmly, finding the goat’s response far too well rehearsed and calm – he was certain that someone had primed the goat on what to say in the event of police coming to foot him the bill for the riot.

Again the goat simply gave Nick an apologetic shrug: “Oh heavens – I wasn’t there. I just handle things here and moderate the group’s message board. The mammals who headed up the protest were volunteers from the message board”

“Right – but it was your charity’s name on the protest permit, which means that the damages are your responsibility. If you’re unsure of how to handle the payments, I would suggest you get a lawyer or maybe an accountant” Judy said, her gaze darting towards Nick as he was looking far too accusatorily at the goat for her likings.

Before the goat could say anything, Nick cut in: “Oh and we would love the names of those volunteers – if for nothing else then to talk them about how to responsibly wrap up a protest”

“Oh I’m sorry I can’t help you with that” the goat very quickly said to Nick, confirming the fox’s suspicion that it was a rehearsed line: “We use anonymous imageboards – no names, no glory-hounds, none of that. We don’t even save IP addresses or anything”

The goat was smiling too much. Whoever had set this up had clearly impressed upon the goat that he couldn’t get in trouble over any of this.

Sensing that there was nothing else they could get from the goat, Nick motioned to Judy for the two of them to leave.

Out it in the cruiser, Judy questioned Nick on his behaviour: “Really Nick, why were you so harsh on him? And why would we need to talk to the volunteers?” 

“Because this stinks fluff. A charity with no money set up as the literal scapegoat for a protest turned riot, with no documentation on who the actual protest organizers were?” Nick replied, frowning deeply as he pulled out his cigar tin, popped it open, took a stick of bacon out of it and then offered Judy one.

Taking a stick of bacon, Judy sighed: “Fair point – but you can’t be certain that foul play was involved here”

“No, but I have a mean old hunch – if he was all about peace and love he should have been horrified”

Over the next three weeks seven more protests outside the gate to Pro-Tech took place. Two of them turned into riots, and both of them turned out to have been organized ‘anonymously’ through penniless one-mammal charities that had recently been registered, to the point that the ink was barely dry at the city hall registrar before the ZPD needed to look at it for an address to send the post-riot clean-up bills to.

Sure, Bogo had increased the amount of police officers at the protests – but at two protests that turned into protests weird things started happening: Diversions, such as cars being set on fire a few blocks away, or burglar alarms being triggered near the protest, kept popping up to draw officers away. Once the riots got started the violence also intensified: bits of broken off pavement being thrown around, glass bottles, fireworks… and with nobody to effectively foot the bill for all the damages, and it being damn near impossible to pin damages on individual arrested rioters, things weren’t looking good.

The morning after the second riot, in the bullpen, Nick and Judy patiently awaited Bogo’s arrival, because… well… it was five minutes past briefing time – and the Chief was late. Chief Bogo was never late.

Looking around the bullpen, Nick saw the worried looks in his co-workers. Judy didn’t look too happy either: “You think everything is ok Nick?”

“Not after all the fireworks we saw on the news last night” Nick replied, feeling distinctly uncomfortable in his seat as the uncertainty of what Bogo was pulling gnawed at him.

From behind them McHorn chimed in: “Oh you should have been there. Someone actually threw a Molotov at the Pro-Tech gate!”

The duo reacted with appropriate surprise. So far the two riots had been reasonably manageable. Judy wondered: “The news didn’t say anything about the rioters firebombing anything”

McHorn scratched his horn briefly: “We had some fire-extinguishers ready in case anything happened – and it must have caught the news cameras napping, but hey nobody got hurt. Still, it ruined the gate opening mechanism, so it trapped the employees inside until someone managed to fix it”

Nick shook his head. The news coverage of the protests hadn’t exactly been critical of the riots, the news media seemingly siding with the anti-meat protests.

“Chief Bogo!” the hippo at the door suddenly announced, snapping to attention.

Everyone quickly got back into their seats as a… tired? Chief Bogo came into the room.

With no call for anyone to shut up – not that anyone was really making any noteworthy noise, but it was still something Bogo usually always did – the Chief marched up in front of everyone and plainly declared: “We have a big problem on hands”

Everyone was all ears.

“The issue isn’t criminal, or legal…” Bogo began, which very quickly managed to confuse pretty much everyone.

“…it’s related to our budget”

Bogo explained that the last several weeks worth of protests at the Pro-Tech plant had pretty much drained all the funds allotted for ovetime for the rest of the budget year.

“But sir… its March” someone quickly noted.

Bogo didn’t even glare at whoever had spoken out of turn, he simply nodded: “We’re not out money – just overtime money. It’s all the protest coverage. I’ve already petitioned city hall to expand our budget, but I have no idea when that will even be processed”

Raising a paw, Judy asked: “Sir – there are what, five or six more protests scheduled over the next month at Pro-Tech”

Again Bogo simply nodded, looking utterly defeated. This was so far from the Chief’s usual stoic nature – it was really weird.

“What about the other precincts – they can’t be out of overtime money yet?” Nick chimed in, opting to be constructive instead of humorous.

With a look that seemed almost disappointed that Nick hadn’t tried with a joke to lighten the mood, Bogo informed the fox that all ZPD precincts drew from the same citywide police overtime budget, specifically because large events tended to require overtime from multiple precincts at once.

“So… all the other precincts are out of overtime money too?” Judy wondered, sounding rather confounded at how this issue hadn’t been predicted earlier.

All Judy got for an answer was a derisive snort as Bogo moved on: “Just like the last two times the riot yesterday came out of a protest officially helmed by a new prey-centric charity that doesn’t have any real money to its name. I have already spoken with City Hall on this, but sadly we can’t bar similar event organizers from staging protests simply because we’re afraid they can’t cover the cost of damages that haven’t incurred yet – legally we’re simply not allowed to do so”

Annoyed murmurs spread throughout the bullpen.

“Quiet! While that avenue for ending this streak of riots isn’t an option, then we do have one other option: All of the charities relied on anonymous volunteers to actually organize the events. We didn’t pay attention to who that was at the first event, nor at the second – but I had ordered that McHorn to speak to the organizers personally this time so we could get some ID on them” Bogo explained, starting a powerpoint presentation with what looked like pictures taken from McHorn’s bodycam video from before the riot.

What followed was a briefing about the thirty-some female capybara shown on the picture, which seemed to have been taken from a police body-cam: “We have confirmed that her name is Marie Reeds. Grisoli, Wolford – I need you two to see if you can find out if she was part of organising the two other protests that turned riot”

After that the usual day-shift case delegation continued, but almost half the day shift ended up with… nothing?

With half of everyone not having been assigned anything – not even their usual patrols – Bogo scanned the room, then he nodded: “Alright – the rest of you take day off. I can’t pay you overtime, so we need to save up some hour”

Again murmurs spread throughout the bullpen, but this time it was more along the line of confused murmurs – giving half the day-shift a day off? Was that even legal?

“Patrols from precinct four and six will help cover your routes today, and I have cleared this with city hall and the other precincts – it’s the best we can do without getting the police union involved” Bogo reassured everyone.

Quickly checking her smartphone’s calendar, Judy inquired: “But sir, the next big Pro-Tech protest isn’t scheduled for another week and a half. City hall might be able to up your budget before that”

“Oh I am keenly aware of that Officer Hopps. However, this Friday a certain someone is making his inglorious return to ZU, and I need as many officers as possible available for that” the chief replied, sounding thoroughly nonplussed.

Flicking to the next slide in his presentation, Bogo revealed what looked like a map of the ZU campus, where one of the quads were marked in blue along with white lines denoting barricades and police lines: “Xander Ferrotesticulous is hosting a barbeque/Speaking event, curtsey of the ZU Meat-Lovers Club”

For once, Bogo’s exhaustion and annoyance seemed shared with everyone else in the bullpen: “Oh yes – and since it’s an outdoors event, then maintaining security will be all the more difficult since students have been known to get up on the roofs of their buildings”

A few days later, come that Friday, the dayshift was briefed on the protest properly during the morning brief. Teams of six would helm each of the four access points to the quad, while the doors from the surrounding buildings into the quad would be locked off: “With only four points of entry we can keep things under control. The rest of you spread yourselves around in groups of four where needed, but keep an eye out for the roofs. I want two patrols of three walking around the buildings on the outside at all times, to keep an eye out for incoming trouble”

“Sir, are we expecting trouble?” Francine the elephant asked, voicing a concern shared by many of her colleagues in the bullpen.

Nodding ever so slightly, Bogo explained: “At least three student groups have announced that they’re planning counter-protests, something that ZU’s administration has approved – but they’re not allowed within a hundred feet of the entry points to the quad according to the ZU administration. That said, I’m sure there’ll be someone who decides that the rules do not apply to them. Remind them that they still do”

The event was set to start that afternoon at three, officially set to last well into the evening as a kind of party and political statement wrapped up in the same deal. On Bogo’s orders everyone showed up several hours early – which turned out to be none too soon. Apparently, the counter-protestors had found a loop-hole in the ZU administration’s decree that they stay a hundred feet from the event…

“You heard me: We first have to move away when the blood-feast starts! You can’t tell us to go if it doesn’t start!” barked a rather riled up and aggressive gazelle (Not the Gazelle, thankfully) at Judy.

Grimacing, Judy looked to Nick and her colleagues as they tried to shoo the rest of the counter-protestors out of the quad so the Meat-Lover Club could set up for the event.

“Francine, have you been able to get into contact with anyone in the administration? This would be so much easier if we could get them to tell these kids to move away” Nick said over the radio.

It took a few seconds before a reply came back: “You don’t have to tell me twice – but its Friday afternoon. They’ve all gone home for today…”

“We have a constitutional right to protest! You can’t do this!” another counter-protestor shouted as Fangmeyer picked up a pair of rock rats who both looked and sounded very displeased that their sit-in was being disrupted.

Upon clearing the quad, the president for the Meat-Lovers Club, a chubby pardine genet, thanked Sergeant McHorn as he was the officer in charge. Meanwhile, at their quad exit/entry point, Nick and Judy wondered how many of those counter-protestors would be back later…

“It didn’t exactly sound as if they were ready to call it a day” Judy noted, but Nick wasn’t paying attention – he was looking at something over on the side of one of the buildings: “Hey Nick, what are you looking at?”

Gesturing for Judy and their four other ‘barricade buddies’, Nick pointed out a sizable sticker that had been placed on the side of the wall. It was a plain black and white sticker, with a simple motif: A generic fang with a pair of pliers or tongs over it, like an x. In a circle around the image there was text which read: “Rise up Anti-Fang! Protect the herd!“

“Well that looks real promising” Fangmeyer noted.

Sure enough, two hours later as the barbeque festivities got under way and the smell of slightly charred flesh and veggies began to waft out over the quad, about a hundred predator students – along with maybe two dozen sympathetic prey students – showed up to partake in the event. At first there didn’t seem to be any counter-protest at all…

…this changed rather abruptly when the snow-leopard and political agitator Xander Ferrotesticulous showed up with his entourage of private security wolverines. It was as if the counter-protestors had waited specifically for him before pouring out from the surrounding buildings.

“They just keep coming… how many do you think they are?” Judy wondered over the radio to the rest of the barricade buddies, sitting atop a lamp-post as a look-out.

Nick had no idea, instead opting for a sit-rep from the patrols going around the buildings making up the quad. “This is Trunkaby. I think there’s at least a thousand or so – and that’s just what I can see from here. I think they’ve pretty much surrounded us”

And of-course none of them seemed terribly interested in keeping those hundred foot minimum distances: Why do that, when getting closer meant that you could scream and shout at the mammals inside the quad who were eating char-coal grilled meats of various shapes and sizes. Oh that grilled salmon sure smelled good…

The students massing on the four entry points posed a rather novel and paradoxical safety issue for the ZPD officers helming the four entry points into the quad: To keep the students one hundred feet away from the entry points, which is what they had been told was the standing by the ZU administration, they would need at least six times the police officers to pull off: “Judy, we can’t push them back – we need backup if we’re to push them back more”

“Just keep them here – they’re not hurting anyone” Judy replied over the radio, her voice as strained as her small physique didn’t example help in keeping the very angry and upset students back from their barricades.

The four bottlenecked entry points into the quad made it surprisingly quiet inside the quad itself. Xander and his crew managed to pull of his speech in relative peace and quiet – there was an elevated level of background noise, to put it mildly, but he was able to get his message across: “Behold – the screaming masses, endlessly upset over us having a little picnic. It really tells you something about the level of tolerance in modern society, when predators finally find a peaceful and victim-less way of producing prey meat, that so many still think that it’s not good enough...”

Faint shouts of “Murderer!” and other choice slurs could just barely be made out in the background noise.

“…and let’s be perfectly honest: Do any of you think that these idiots even noticed that we are only barbequing fish here? I mean, placing any kind of large order at Pro-Tech right now puts you on a six month waiting list! They’re acting as if we skinned and skewered half a dozen freshmen and put them over the flames!”

The snow-leopards biting sarcasm wasn’t lost on the duo, though it was clearly lost on the few counter-protestors that could hear him. 

What little media attention there was for the event would at first deem the event reasonably peaceful. This changed quite abruptly once the barbeque ended and the participants tried to disperse – emphasis on tried.

Nick got the very nasty feeling that the counter-protestors were trying to block the students who had been part of the event, from leaving. This was of course not legal, but to break up the mammal chain of students blocking the exits from the quad force would have to be applied. McHorn and the few other senior officers present, including Hopps, thought long and hard on their options. Not leaving wasn’t an option – but how to apply force to break up the barricade was a very different question, and the answer to it needed a lot of thought. Everyone knew how bad the optics were when there dozens of smartphone cameras ready to record their every move.

For the duo there was no doubt that there were many layers of subtlety and real-politics they were missing out on: The doe and the fox tod had no delusions granting them extra perspective or understanding – but at the same time they were on the level with regards to their fellow officers: They had to get through the blockade somehow, and it was very obvious that the counter-protestors were not going to clear away willingly.

“Sir, permission to make the evening news” McHorn broadcast on his radio. Everyone else heard it – but only Bogo was supposed to answer.

The reply came a few seconds later: “Don’t try to make the news – just do your job” from Bogo, sounding resigned to the fact that this was very much going to make waves.

It was one of the curious paradoxes of law enforcement that Nick had learned of since joining the force: When enforcing the law would do more damage to society than not enforcing the law would do. That paradox had kept Nick up more than a few nights at the academy, especially since it was the topic of more than one exam. It had been the same type of paradox that he had exploited many times in the past, but he had never given thought to actually solving such an issue before…

Judy in the meantime was just trying to keep a watchful eye on the counter-protestors in front of her, to make sure that nobody tried or did something stupid. For a brief moment she could have sworn that she saw the capybara that Bogo had talked about from the other riots, Marie Reeds, but in that moment a new order came in:

“Tasers and mace out, pull back from the barricades and form up around the students” McHorn called out for all to hear via radio. The sourth-western quad exit was the target, and the mammals blocking it were the obstacles to be cleared.

The wolverine from Mr. Ferrotesticulous’ security seemed quite thankful that the ZPD were willing to handle the quite obviously messy task of clearing a way out of the quad, though they seemed quite aware that they might have to get their paws dirty before this was over.

“Line up, largest in front. I’ll lead - make sure everyone is present once we start moving” McHorn commanded.

Judy couldn’t help but think how Bogo had taught the rhino well. Nick was more worried about whether someone would start throwing something, since everyone would be packed quite tightly.

Encircling the previously barbeque-attending mammals, the ZPD officers amassed near the south-eastern quad exit. The counter-protestors quickly rushed in once the other barricades were abandoned, to much cheering and hollering from the counter-protestors as they clearly saw this as some kind of victory, even though they had failed to prevent the actual barbeque. 

With McHorn and Trunkaby out in front the spearhead towards the parking lot turned out to work fairly well… to begin with. The students that needed to return to their dorms were a bit more worse for wear, but with access to the rest of the campus they would be able to take long path around to where they lived from the parking lots.

The real kick in the sacks came from the counter-protestors who were right up in the face of the rear-guard of the ZPD officers, which included Nick and Judy: “Fascists! Traitors!”

The sentiment from the counter-protestors seemed simple enough – them taking offense to the ZPD having dared to keep the meat-lovers club and their event safe. Such a sin, such an act of apostasy, such abomination. It had to be punished.

“Stay back – let everyone get out peacefully!” Judy very sternly said to the throng of protestors in front of her, not that they seemed terribly willing to listen, though the ones in front seemed smart enough to know that trying to push through a police line wasn’t very clever, but those behind them didn’t seem to care that much, though with the way things were going then Xander and the Meat-lovers club would be in the clear in a minute or so.

Despite the angry shouts from the only barely peaceful mob around them, Judy was able to pick up a sudden spike in noise off to her left – something… was wrong: The shouting in that direction had become uniform, a lot of voices roaring and braying what sounded like a battle cry.

Four seconds later two the crowd parted seemingly instantly, as by magic, as two large dumpsters came crashing into the police line, forcing a big gap open to the pained cries of everyone who got hit and knocked aside or down. Judy tried jumping up – but didn’t quite clear the dumpster, flipping her around and leaving her splayed out on top of the dumpster which was thankfully closed. Adrenaline kicking in, Judy quickly tried to get up, but her left foot hurt... not that that stopped her getting up, though her ears were ringing and her head hurt.

The first thing Judy noticed when she staggered up was that her radio ear-bud had popped out. Of course, she didn’t need that to see the absolute melee going on around her! A mass, a column almost, of black-clad club-wielding mammals in black ski-masks and balaclavas were surging in through the hole in the police line. The bunny had a quick flashback to the first riot she had seen back when she helped security at Xander’s last ZU speaking event: Were these the same mammals?

Of course, questions like that fell to the way-side as Judy’s hearing came into focus – the ringing in her ears finally fading: The shouting, the fighting, sound of club against police baton, the intermittent taser noises and the puffs of dart guns going off…

Drawing her taser, Judy jumped off the dumpster onto the back of what looked like a tapir in a balaclava who was swinging a club at one of Xander’s security wolverines who was busy fending off three other black-clad mammals: “You’re under arrest!”

The tapir strangely enough didn’t comply, but a swift tasing to the neck left the mammal slumped up against the dumpster.

That was one down… and a sea of black hoodies and masks to go. This was bad.

Looking around to spot Nick and her other colleagues, Judy just barely managed to catch a glimpse of russet fur before her head hurt for a brief moment and then hospital bed and hurting.

Wait what? Also, oww… her head hurt.

“She’s awake! Hey nurse, she’s awake” Nick said, scrambling over to the hospital bed.

Judy looked up at Nick, thoroughly confused at the sudden change in scenery: “What happened? I was on the dumpster…”

“Someone got you in the head when you were looking the other way – you’ve been out cold for the last couple of hours” Nick explained, a mink nurse checking Judy’s vitals.

Cooperating with the nurse to see if everything was ok while Nick filled her in on how they had fought their way out of the mob, Judy found herself horrified to learn that it had been pretty much impossible to actually arrest anyone during the attack: “We had to get you and the others who were hurt out of there… the meat-lover students and the wolverines were dropping left and right”

“Anyone die?” Judy tentatively asked, legitimately not wanting to know the answer, but painfully aware that she’d be clued into the casualty count sooner or later no matter what, all the while stretching her legs one by one and wiggling her toes to the nurses instructions.

Nick shook his head: “No, but two mice got stomped by something big with hooves – one of them will be stuck in a wheelchair for life. Ironically they said they were there for the counter-protest”

“Oh cheese and… wait, you said that some of the wolverines and predator students got hurt?” Judy inquired, the nurse happy with the results of her examination.

Looking around briefly to spot the remote to the wall-mounted television in the room they were in, Nick flicked through the channels to ZNN: “The two stomped mice got the worst injuries. You, one of the wolverines and four students got hit in the head with something – and everyone else got away with scrapes and bruises, me included”

ZNN was showing what looked like a rerun or recap of their coverage, the snow leopard news anchorwoman recounting the events once more all the while showing a picture of one of Xander’s wolverines taken over the shoulder of whoever the wolvering was taking a swing at: “Another pro-meat event turned violent today, a pair of students suffering crippling injuries that will leave them wheelchair-bound for the rest of their li-“

Judy snatched the remote out of Nick’s paw and shot Nick a very dirty look: “Are they seriously trying to spin this as if the meat-lovers are at fault?”

“Oh you should have seen the footage they led with earlier. They got a really good shot of McHorn peper-spraying the totally peaceful and ‘obviously innocent’ students at the quad exit when we started the break-out…” Nick added, baffling Judy with his ability to maintain his casual smile in the face of such a bending of the truth.

Stomping her foot furiously, Judy fought the urge to make angry bunny noises – but a doctor at the door disrupted the two: “Ah, good to see that you’re up and about”

“Can I go? I need to get back to work” Judy implored, the impatience in her voice impossible to miss.

The doctor, a bemused looking tamaraw, scratched his beard and took his sweet time in walking over to check Judy’s charts: “Microscopic skull-fractures, cranial bruises… nothing that needed stitches, and only a minor concussion. Sure, you can go – but I’ll message your chief to put you on four days medical leave. If you don’t get time to heal you’ll risk serious skull fracture at… well, the drop of a hat”

“I… ok, that’s your call – thank you” Judy said, looking around for her uniform, even though Nick loved the view of butt that her hospital gown gave him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Google "the bike-lock basher" if you're curious


	6. Learning to Eat Crow

“Impressive. Is this Anti-Fang nonsense a product of our schemes?”

“Probably. That’s the nature of a distributed system – there’s room for variation, but the results are the same. Their execution was flawless though”

“Right, and how did your super system turn students into a violent mob?”

“Oh that’s nothing. Fund the right prey-gressive action groups and charities, and make sure that the right mammals get tenure and professorships – you know, the sort of lunatics that tell prey that they’re oppressed no matter what and that they need to fight back at their oppressors”

“Good grief, how are we going to stop them?”

“We only have to stop them if they don’t win”

…

Sure enough Judy was put on medical leave – though she did manage to talk Bogo into having the weekend count in it as well, so she’d only miss out on two days of actual work. Of course, Nick got no such luxury, not having been injured enough to warrant medical leave, so he was off to work as normal.

Sitting at home in their shared apartment, Judy groaned as she looked at the clock. Normally, for a Monday, there was no such thing as ten o’ clock in the morning on the couch. She should be at work… her head didn’t even hurt or anything: “Minor concussion and micro skull fractures my fuzzy butt…”

For a lack of anything better the doe turned on the television, the massive 30-inch screen popping to life with the inglorious miracle that was daytime TV. It was if she could feel her sanity simply leeching out of her skull…

That was when Finnick suddenly walked by in front of her – or rather, the fennec’s sandy-cream ears passed by in front of her: “Hey, who the… Finnick? What? How?”

“Hey – Nick said you might be feeling lonely, so he called around for the best gigolos in town, but they all turned him down so he called me instead” the fennec said as he cracked open a can of beer that Judy recognized was from her and Nick’s fridge, all the while the tiny fennec fox featured the most shit-eating grin ever.

While Judy had been quite happy to see Nick and Finnick reacquaint in the aftermath of the last big N2 case, mostly because the fennec had somehow caught on to Nick and Judy getting chummy with Jack Savage, the rabbit movie star, and Finnick turning out to be an absolute gossip-whore, then Judy had to ask: “Finnick… how did you get in here?”

“Though the door, duh” the incredibly deep-voiced fennec replied in a blunt and matter-of-factly tone.

Throwing a glance over the sofa, out into the hallway to the heavy steel door into the apartment, Judy found herself both annoyed and amused at the same time: She finally had something to do – figure out how a mammal even smaller than her could reach the lock – but at the same time… this was such a waste of time! She should be at work, helping mammals: “Finnick… how did you reach the lock? I have to jump up to get it – even Nick has to reach for it”

The fennec flipped a gizmo out of a pants pocket. At first Judy thought it was one of those telescopic batons – in which case she’d have to confiscate it, because those things were illegal as hell – but it turned out to be… a telescopic gripping arm, with a twisty function: “Turns keys and grabs handles just fine”

“Oh… neat” Judy said, feeling somewhat disappointed that the mystery had been solved that quickly, with such a simple solution.

Finnick shrugged, and used the grabber to snatch the remote to the TV and flick through the channels. The speed at which the fennec channel-surfed was far beyond what Judy could keep up with – but what was worst was what Finnick ended up settling on: “Oh come on… that stuff will rot your brain”

“Come on? Do you even know what this is?” Finnick said, gesturing at the screen.

It didn’t take many brain-cells to identify the show as some kind of trashy talk-show, with its dated look and a live audience that almost constantly cheered or jeered the mammals up on the stage, with a well-dressed but saccharine host in the form an okapi doe who just smiled too much… even as the mammals up on stage with seemed engaged in a vicious shouting match over whatever the show was about: “It’s a trashy talk show… what’s there to know”

“Judy – as Nick’s squeeze I’ll give you some leeway – but this… this is THE trashy talk show! It’s O’Chra!” Finnick noted, sounding a lot more excited than what Judy could see that there was cause for.

Unimpressed, the bunny looked back and forth between the fennec and the show, then drew a conclusion: “So… you like watching dumb mammals do stupid things because it makes your life feel by comparison?”

“Hey, laughing at other mammals’ misery is a time-honoured zootopian tradition” Finnick shot back, taking a sip of his beer.

Drawing a deep breath, Judy shook her heard. The idea of drawing mirth from the misery of others just sounded wrong to her: “I just can’t believe you’d find this funny”

“Oh it’s not ha ha funny – it’s the drama, the intrigue! Like, take these morons: The hyena lady has been screwing around and gotten pregnant, and her husband thinks it’s not his! And look, they have his best friend along on the show… wanna guess who daddy might be?” Finnick said, his eyes hungrily locked on the TV, eating up every drop of juicy drama that came at him.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the television, Judy settled with face-palming: “But that’s… that’s just terrible. They shouldn’t be on a TV show, they should be at a marriage councillor”

“No – terrible is all the time O’Chra’s been wasting the last month talking about meat. This is the first predator guests she’s had on in forever! This is the really juicy stuff!” Finnick commented, his frustration and relief clearly coming through to the bunny.

With a single raised eyebrow, Judy found the mention of the prey talk show spending a lot of time to cover the meat topic oddly interesting: “What have they been saying about meat?”

“Oh they’re just full of shit. They’ve had reps from Pro-Tech on the show – who couldn’t say anything without getting boo’d at. Or that ugly old goat who kept going on about his idea about a meat conspiracy” Finnick recounted, confusing Judy ever so slightly as she had thought that such a tense drama-laden topic would be perfect for the show.

Seeing Judy’s look of disbelief, Finnick chuckled: “Oh I don’t mind them covering it all – it’s all good fun – it’s just that there’s only one show a week, so they suck at covering current events”

Nodding, Judy found herself at a loss of anything to say. Finnick’s point had been good, and his explanation thorough. This only left the show and its countdown for revealing the paternity test…

“Honestly, I’d rather they talk about Pro-Tech than look more at this… ugh… the stupid is making my head hurt” Judy groaned, getting up from the couch and bouncing towards the kitchen.

While out in the kitchen, Judy dug out a carrot from the vegetable crisper in the fridge. From back in the living room Finnick shouted: “You ok in there?”

Returning to the couch with her carrot, Judy gave Finnick a smile. It was nice that even with his attitude, he still cared: “Hey, I just got knocked in head, nothing serious – after tomorrow I’ll back at work and then everything will be back to normal”

Finnick turned off the television, just as the paternity test results were about to be revealed. The fennec fox looked stunned as he slowly turned to give Judy a piercing gaze: “Hit in the head? At the ZU riot last Friday?”

The very sudden change in demeanour honestly frightened Judy. She had never seen Finnick suddenly get that serious: “Yes – it was when we were trying to leave, right after we got attacked by the mob of hooded mammals with the dumpster”

It was eerie seeing the fennec fox slowly shake his head in disbelief, though with what he said next things made a little more sense: “Holy crap… so that was you”

“I’m going to need a little more explanation on that” Judy noted.

The explanation came in the form of half a dozen videos on ewetube shown via Finnick’s phone, because of course at least a hundred students had recorded parts of the attack on their smartphones. It was a bit unsettling for Judy to see repeated slow motion footage of herself getting cold-clocked, but at the same time then it was quite interesting: “What exactly is that… it’s not a bat or a pipe”

“It’s one of those U-shaped bike locks with the heavy lock-block at the end. Now check this vid, someone went through all the pictures and videos on social media and figured out who it was that hit you” Finnick added, finding another video.

Judy had to admit that the amount of detective work that had gone into the videos was quite impressive. From blurry video frames the web-sleuths had spotted that the bike-lock basher had something bright green stick out from under the black hoodie and muzzle-mask the basher had used. Then the apparent height and build of the basher had been compared with other random photos and videos of the counter-protestors, with apparently thousands of random mammals on the internet having looked for someone with something green around their neck.

Finnick showed how the first few videos and online posts about possible positive hits were quickly narrowed down as the possible suspects were identified via mammals looking through the ZU student and employee databases…

“Wait, ZU employee database?” Judy said, finding it just a tad far out that someone who worked at ZU would run around in a mask attacking students.

The fennec gave Judy a strange look – it was the first time she had really seen him really look worried: “He’s a teacher there, some llama guy”

“Hold on – you can’t just judge someone guilty… that’s mob rule” Judy protested, her look of horror at the idea of a teacher hurting his own students simply too much for her to handle…

The fennec shrugged and waved his phone about with a strong air of certainty: “Someone found a picture of the guy’s bike. The lock he uses looks exactly like the one in the basher videos. I’m sure you can investigate it when you go back to work”

Rubbing her brow, Judy nodded, though she wasn’t happy about it: “I’ll show it to Bogo… but a teacher hitting his own students and attacking the police? That’s just… it’s a reach”

“Judy – those bike locks are really heavy, especially when they’re llama sized. That wasn’t hitting... that was trying to kill you” Finnick implored, appearing somewhat confused about why Judy wasn’t seeing things the way he did.

In a quick and sudden motion Judy got up and marched out into the kitchen. She returned a moment later, beer can in hand: “Can you turn the TV back on… I need something to distract me here”

Obliging, the fennec resumed the O’Chra show. It seemed as if the paternity test had turned up negative… for both the male hyenas – which of course just begged the question of who the real father then was, cranking the drama up to crazy levels.

Nick came back from work absolutely exhausted a bit after six, to which end he was a tad surprised to see Finnick still there: “Hey buddy – I just asked you to check in for a bit, not stay the whole day”

“Oh I couldn’t leave – me and Judy’ve been drinking your beer and shitposting on Anti-Fang forums. She’s a natural!” Finnick triumphantly declared, his speech barely even slurred, despite how drunk he was.

With a deep sigh Nick noted that Judy appeared to be slumped down on the couch, furiously typing on her phone, to the point that she didn’t seem aware of him what so ever: “Look, there’s a reason Judy normally doesn’t do online debates…”

Judy let out a brief “Ha!” as she gleefully posted whatever she had just typed up on her phone.

A pained expression spread over Nick’s brow, while a forced smile crept over his mouth: “Well at least she’s not crying like last time she went online…”

“Oh ya, she told me about that – turned out she just needed a proper mentor on how to do troll. Dude, your girl had a lot of anger and frustration that needed venting” Finnick said, his amusement over the situation undeniable, but there was a subtle element of respect in it as well, an element that Nick’s keen people-skills picked up on instantly.

Choosing not to be bothered by the situation, Nick popped out into the kitchen, only to find that there was no more beer left. Of course.

Returning to the two in the living room, Nick was about to voice his displeasure at their lack of refilling the fridge when Nick spotted the ice-filled cooler next to the couch with four cans left. Of course, even more so.

“Hey Nick, when did you come home?” Judy burst out in a slurred and almost haphazard tone, as Nick grabbed a beer.

Popping the can and taking a sip, Nick gave Judy a smile, albeit a tired one: “Just now – you having fun?”

“Oh yes - Finnick showed me who whacked me over the head last Friday, and then we watched O’Chra about some advark looser who lives with his mom who wants to marry his body-pillow” Judy said, barely taken her eyes off her phone as she continually refreshed the page she was on, to see if anyone responded to whatever she had written.

Pausing for a moment, Nick tried to digest the information he had just received. Never mind that Judy had told him repeatedly that she really didn’t like trashy daytime talk-shows, but having found her attacker? “You found who attacked you?”

“Well sort of – we’re pretty sure who it is, and Judy is sure there’s enough evidence for a warrant to have a sniff at his bike-lock” Finnick explained, Nick recognizing the fennec’s tone of voice as his enthusiastic gossip voice…

Choosing to just nod and smile, Nick figured he could probably get a better explanation later when everyone was sober – which did turn out to be the case, to which he asked if he should bring this information to Bogo so there could be a warrant ready for when Judy came out of medical leave. Judy liked this idea.

This left Judy with another day to do nothing in - to which end Nick came home to a bunny who was bored out of her mind that day. Apparently then watching O’Chra was only fun when Finnick was there to provide snarky commentary.

“Honestly Judy, that kind of television will just rot your brain…” Nick noted, enjoying his soy-sauce-marinated roach bits and steamed veg.

Swallowing, after crunching through her bite of roach bits, Judy begrudgingly nodded: “You just get drawn in – it’s like you have to watch it just to see how messed up these mammals are! I saw the creepy aardvark with his body-pillow… I just… he had a cover for it with a nude picture of Gazelle on the front!”

“Really? I didn’t know that she had ever done nude shoots” Nick said, mildly amused.

No, apparently the aardvark had simply photoshoped some official press photos of the singer… though as Judy explained what the same cover had on the back Nick had to wonder if Judy was getting turned on by it all.

The next day, back on active duty, Judy followed Nick into the bullpen. To her surprise, she found herself cheered on as she entered: “Hey, come on – it’s not the first time I’ve come back from medical leave”

“No but you found a solid lead on the guy who nearly killed you. None of us thought we’d ever figure out who that was” Francine explained quite enthusiastically. Everyone else nodded or similarly expressed their approval.

Upon Bogo’s arrival the daily update on ongoing cases quickly got underway, catching Judy up on what had been going on: “Alright. The gang-unit consultants got back to us yesterday, confirming that while the ‘anti-fang’ group that attacked us last Friday did use something akin to the same uniforms, then they do not appear to be affiliated with the crazy lioness’ old commune militia… yes Hopps?”

“Uhm, very sorry sir – I’m not quite caught up on things, but since when did we start calling the BESERC mammals a militia?” Judy asked, feeling as if she had missed something very important.

Bogo nodded with a knowing and neutral expression: “They were reclassified by the prosecutor during their prep-work for the lioness’ trial. The commune leadership was press-ganging its members into fighting. Point was that this was not the same… in fact, we don’t really know who was in charge thanks to their masks… but what little we know confirms that they don’t have the same rigid hierarchy that the militia had. In fact we don’t really know who’s calling the shots for those lunatics. Yes Hopps?”

This time Judy didn’t have a question, and Nick could tell from her far more serious expression: “Sir, about who might have been in charge of the attack…” the bunny said tentatively.

“Go on” Bogo motioned.

“Just before McHorn gave the order to move out via the south exit I’m pretty sure I saw that capybara, Marie Reeds, somewhere in the crowd of counter-protestors, near the entry into the quad I was stationed at – I know it’s a reach, but considering what you’ve told us about her being an organizer at a lot of the Pro-Tech protests that turned into riots, then it might be a lead. I’ll type up a report as soon as possible”

“Interesting… Detective Harebrast has kept tabs on her social media activities. She appears to be the head of an activist organization called “Ban All Meat Now”. No surprise at what they want. They have previously mainly been active in Tundratown and the Canal district, protesting at fish markets and fish processing plants. It seems that they recently got a boost in funding, allowing them to start bussing more mammals around to more protests, as well as recruiting more protestors” Bogo elaborated, not sounding terribly surprised to hear that the capybara had been seen at the ZU event.

Fangmeyer asked: “Sir, should we track her down and question her about the attacks and riots?”

“Not yet. Harebrast and the rest of his team is still piecing things together to build a case. We are quite certain that if we come and start asking questions she’ll disappear and someone else will come in and take over, who we’ll have to identify first. The current hypothesis is that it might be groups like BAMN which are clandestinely setting up the charity organizations which are being used as scapegoats for the riots. Of course, proving that takes time, but once we know for sure we’ll act on it instantly” Bogo pointed out, speaking with a heavy heart that clearly signalled his dissatisfaction with not being able to spring to action just yet.

With all of that covered, Bogo began to move on with the morning briefing: “Right, does anyone else have any questions? Hopps again?”

“Sir – the mammal that hit me at the protest last Friday. I was shown some ewetube videos here Monday, and I think he’s been identified by some web-sleuths” Judy explained.

Bogo shot Judy a gaze that spoke of curiosity and him not being very surprised – of course he hadn’t been able to keep Judy from doing her work, even when on medical leave: “Show me what you found after the briefing”

Afterwards, in Bogo’s office, Nick and Judy presented what they had. Twenty minutes later the duo was off in their car, driving to the courthouse to get a warrant signed, with a polite but firm reminder from Bogo that the duo was working for a justice system, not a vengeance system.

“Well that was easier than I thought it would be” Judy noted, cheerfully tapping the steering wheel of the car as she drove.

Nick shrugged: “Bogo was pissed that we hadn’t been able to catch any of the attackers on Friday. Oh sure, he understood why, but he hated the idea of them being able to get away with it – but like buffalo-butt said, the guy is still innocent until proven guilty”

“True, the web-sleuths might have gotten it all wrong” Judy replied, keeping her eyes focused on the traffic, though in her heart she really hoped they weren’t wrong.

Later at ZU, the duo walked through the scene of the crime, warrant in hand. The dumpsters were long gone, but there were still blood stains on the tiled paths, even if they were faded from attempted clean-up. Now, the duo had seen enough side-walks and curbs after bar fights and whatnot with similar stains so that this sight wasn’t terribly novel, but still… the nature of the attack made it a little different. The liberal application of Anti-Fang stickers on every street-light and poster-board in the area also denoted who had ‘won’ the battle – not that the ZPD intended to concede the war.

“Ok, enough wallowing – where is this guy’s bike?” Judy said, getting that predatory look in her eyes that Nick simply loved.

Finding the llama’s bike near the building where he had his office wasn’t terribly difficult – the duo had some nice reference pictures to go by thanks to the ewetube videos. The bike in question did indeed have a lovely sturdy llama-sized U-lock securing it, and a quick field-test confirmed traces of blood on it. That was all the probable cause duo needed to bring the guy in for questioning…

Professor Spytlik’s prey studies classes were well known by the ZU student body for being fun and engaging – as long as you didn’t gainsay him, which was apparently a bit of a running joke among parts of the ZU student body. Nick and Judy knew nothing of this, though they did both quickly concluded that the class was almost entirely of prey students, and both Nick and Judy recognized the shocked reaction from the llama when Nick and Judy stepped into the auditorium as a very common one: Spytlik let out a very surprised “You!”, gesturing at Judy with a bit of chalk, and then he made for the opposite door out of the room…

Of course, the duo had quietly circled around beforehand and locked that door – so the students got a hilarious performance from their teacher, as he slammed into the opposite but locked door and fell over backwards, much to everyone but Spytlik’s amusement.

“Professor Spytlik, you are under arrest on suspicion for multiple accounts of attempted murder, assaulting a police officer and attempted murder of a police officer” Judy calmly stated, straining to not smirk, as she continued to read the llama his rights and cuff him.

Seeing their teacher being arrested for something a lot more serious than any of them had imagined, loads of students in the class rushed down to ‘help’ their teacher, though none of them tried to actually stop the two officers. A shocked hare doe, almost twice the size of Judy but a lot more gangly, cried out: “You can’t do this! He hasn’t done anything”

“That’s for the courts to decide. We found blood on his bike-lock, so if nothing else he has some explaining to do” Nick interjected, as he unlocked the door out of the auditorium the duo had sealed off earlier.

Spytlik, sufficiently recovered from running headlong into a door that would usually swing open quite easily, began to struggle against his cuffs: “Bullshit! You’re nothing but meat-fascists, protecting killers! Everything I did, I did in defence of my fellow prey!”

“Sir, I did just say that any you say can and will be used against you in a court of law – are you admitting guilt to the charges?” Judy said, her mind instantly having switched into super professional mode as the suspect in her custody was saying all the right things. Her body-cam was on right, yes, yes it was. Excellent.

Normally, when given such a reminder, most criminals would clam up quite hard and wait until they got a lawyer. This llama… not so much: “Oh screw you – I was defending prey from predators trying to normalize prey meat eating! I only struck down mammals that spread hate and fear, which is well within my natural rights!”

“Is he usually always this grandiose?” Nick quietly asked towards the students that were encircling them. Quite a few nodded, looking rather shocked in the process.

In a remarkable display of loyalty to their educator, or perhaps just misguided tribal out-group hostility aimed at the two strangers who had intruded into their safe space of learning, several of students began to cheer on their teacher in his struggle, chanting “Resist the fascists!” over and over again.

“Kids – your teacher just admitted that last Friday he ran around and tried to kill several students, a police officer and several security guards at the meat-lover event” Judy tried to explain – trying to impress the severity of the situation to the young mammals, but her voice was drowned out by the chanting.

Nick, seeing what Judy was trying to do, put two fingers in his mouth and let out a sharp and loud whistle, which instantly disrupted the chanting: “He just admitted to trying to murder students here – are you seriously siding with him?”

With the momentum of the chanting already disrupted, the harsh reality of Spytlik’s admission completely ruined the mood and caused the students surrounding the two to disperse. The duo noticed that all of the students began to avert their gaze and face away from the professor, who in turn seemed to lose his resolve as the support of those around him faded…

Bringing the llama in to central booking, handing the bike-lock over to evidence for testing, and double-checking that their body-cam recordings with the llama’s confession had been uploaded to the ZPD servers had come through properly.

“Justice before lunch… feels good” Judy said, sounding thoroughly pleased, looking around in the precinct one break room for a coffee cup that matched her size.

Nick couldn’t help but nod in kind: “True, and I’m sure whatever prosecutor gets this case will have loads of fun with the ewetube videos”

Both of them had a giggle and a donut, before heading out again via the motor pool.


	7. Hard To Swallow

“Arrests were inevitable. This was expected”

“But the drop in recruitment and protest-signups looks really bad – are you sure this will work in the long run?”

“It won’t have to work in the long run – just long enough, and there are more than enough useful idiots still signed up. We just need something to distract them – another media push or something”

“What about Bogo? We can’t keep stalling the city council on his overtime budget”

“Public sentiment is almost right – we just need that one media push, then we’ll pull the pin on him and get this rolling” 

…

It was looking to be a calm and seemingly uneventful Thursday. Yesterday the duo had arrested a ZU teacher, who upon arrest more or less confessed to having trying to kill Judy at the ZU protest last Friday, and while the news of this hadn’t hit the media news-cycle just yet, then Judy had already seen the story break on several Anti-Fang online forums. The chilling effect of the arrest seemed to have been quite immediate.

It was a rare thing to see Bogo actually smile during morning briefings – and his smile looked down right malicious, as he brought up a graph that showed some kind of declining trend: “This, ladies and gentle-mammals, is the daily post count on the biggest Anti-Fang forum we’ve found so far found. You’ll notice the sharp drop in posts right around noon. That was when Officer Hopps and Wilde arrested the bike-lock basher yesterday”

Cheers and applause rang out in the bullpen, Nick and Judy enjoying their brief time to shine.

Later, while out on patrol, the duo relished that for once they weren’t baby-sitting some protest for once: “Just driving around… this is a lot nicer that having mammals scream at you”

Nick had to agree: “Indeed”

Suddenly the radio sprung to life: “One-Ten-Six, please respond”

Nick was quick on the reply: “This is One-Ten-Six – what’s up?”

“A small protest near the highway turnpike from Elm Street jumped the sidewalk and is blocking traffic. Unblock the highway before afternoon rush-hour hits them ASAP” the dispatcher replied.

Nick and Judy shared a knowing look: This meant more mammals shouting at them. With a sigh Judy punched the location into the satnav and changed lane.

Finding the protest turned out to be really easy: Since they were blocking traffic, all they had to do was find the massive traffic jam stemming from them. This of course also meant that they had to park almost a mile from the protest, since traffic was jammed up all the way, making driving close impossible.

Walking past hundreds of angry drivers, the duo got plenty of shouts calling for them to fix the situation. Some were polite, some less so – but if nothing else then it seemed that the mammals shouting at them so far seemed to understand that they were there to help.

Closer to the protest, Nick and Judy saw several banners with the letters “PLM”. Closer yet, they could hear the chants: “Prey Lives Matters”

“Oh this is going to be all kinds of fun” Nick commented, putting on his mirrored sunglasses.

Judy jumped up on the hood of a car to get a better view: “You know that depends on how cooperative they are. We’ll have to find who’s in charge”

The protesters were all prey, forming a long chain that completely blocked the highway from western Savannah Central to downtown, with a few stragglers still standing on the side of the highway waving their banners and signs with great fervor.

“Alright, who’s in charge here?” Judy inquired, trying to get the attention of the pair of horses who formed the end of the chain. Aside from a quick glance down, the two mares seemed quite intent to just keep on chanting.

Exchanging knowing looks, Nick gave Judy a boost to bring her up closer to the two horses: “Ladies – I’m going to need an answer”

An early lesson from the police academy was that very few civilians could remain unflinching when they had an officer in their face. Be it a mix of fear of authorities, the fact that ZPD officers generally had a reputation for not getting in anyone’s face unless you were doing something you shouldn’t, or a combination of the two, then the effect would usually be some kind of response – not that that response was always peaceful or desired.

In Judy’s case the spirit of the two mares seemed to falter, shutting them up for long enough to for Judy to ask again – in a much sterner tone this time.

“She’s up the other end” one of them said, the other rolling her eyes.

Nodding, Judy was lowered back to the ground: “Good – now get off the road. You’re blocking traffic”

“Hell no – that’s the point of this protest!” The other mare said, sounding insulted at the command.

Nick sighed, wondering why dispatch hadn’t sent a pair of larger officers: “No it is not – because the protest permit issued for this was for a road-side protest. You’re off the road when we come back here, or it’s fines for everyone who’s still blocking traffic, the sort that automatically gets deducted from your pay by your employers”

The two mares gave the duo looks that could kill as Nick and Judy made their way up the chain towards the supposed leader of the protest.

Sitting on the very furry shoulder of bison, a mouse with a mouse-sized mike linked to a massive bison-sized megaphone was leading the chanting in her end of the chain.

Getting the attention of the mouse was pretty much impossible – she simply could not hear anything Nick or Judy was saying, plus quite a few angry drivers were honking their horns constantly. However, the bison that the mouse was sitting on seemed a lot more aware of his surroundings.

“Prey Lives Matter! Prey Lives Ma- hey! Stand up again will you!?” the mouse lady called out via her loudspeaker.

As the bison knelt down, the mouse saw the two police officers.

“Hi – you in charge here?” Judy asked, Nick standing silently behind his mirrored sunglasses.

The mouse seemed to ignore Judy and shot Nick a dirty look, addressing him: “We have a right to protest against the normalization of eating prey meat – We want to live! Prey lives matter!”

“Yes you do – but that doesn’t include the right to block traffic. Move yourself and the protest off road please” Judy said, annoyed that she was being ignored.

Finally acknowledging that Judy was there, the mouse stated: “You’re a bunny! You should be protesting with us, not be on the leash of some predator cop”

“Excuse me?” the doe exclaimed, surprised at the sudden change of topic.

The mouse gestured wildly and enthusiastically, seemingly upset at Judy not simply agreeing with her: “You’re prey. You’ll never amount to anything in a predator dominated police force! They’re keeping you down and using you as some token prey to excuse shutting down righteous protests like this! Prey lives matter!”

Dozens of mammals down along the protest chain chimed in with the chanting.

Looking back at Nick for a brief moment, Judy drew a deep breath and steeled herself: “Clear the road, or we’ll call in back-up and arrest all of you for unlawful protest, and fine everyone who’s part of this”

“Prey lives matter! Prey lives ma-ghurk!” the mouse said, as Judy snatched her off the bison and away from her loudspeaker.

The protest dissolved pretty quickly after that, as Nick and Judy began herding the protesters back to the side of the road, all the while getting ID on the protesters that weren’t fast enough and issuing fines to the first couple of them. Once the first four fines had been issues everyone else started running a lot faster to get off the road – not that they were happy about it, but all the drivers seemed quite pleased that they could get to where they were going.

It was almost an hour before they were back at their cruiser, at which point both Nick and Judy felt quite exhausted: Herding angry prey that kept shouting slurs at the two had left the duo mentally exhausted, plus the protesters had figured out that each and every one of them could demand to get their name and badge number, which in turn would buy the rest of them a few more seconds to protest…

“Hit me” Judy said, extending a paw towards Nick after she had put on her seat-belt.

With a well-rehearsed motion that he had repeated a thousand times at this point, Nick withdrew his metal cigar tin and flicked it open towards Judy. There were no cigars in it – only strips of delicious bacon. Judy snatched one and savoured the flavour: “Oh I needed that…”

“No kidding. We should have popped by Professor Mulberry for a new batch when we were at ZU” Nick noted, biting down on his own stick of bacon.

Grabbing the radio, Judy called in that the road-blocking protest had been cleared out: “This is One-Ten-Six. The protest has been removed from the road, traffic is flowing again. We’ve taken the leader of the protest into custody – she refused to move the protest”

“All she’ll get is a fine, we have to let her walk once we get back to the precinct – why bother bring her in?” Nick wondered.

With a sour expression, Judy threw a glance into the back of the cruiser, before giving Nick an annoyed look: “Because she said that I would never amount to anything as a cop, just because I’m a bunny. I mean, for fuck’s sake – it’s as if these morons want the Mammal Inclusion Initiative shut down”

“Can’t have prey straying from the herd – gotta put you in your place… oww” Nick joked sarcastically, earning him a swift jab to the shoulder from Judy.

Giving Nick a mean glare, Judy frowned: “That’s not funny”

Later, after lunch, the duo was called in to help manage another pro-meat protest, this time at a small park in Savannah Central, under control of Precinct Four.

Arriving, Nick and Judy were quite pleasantly surprised to see that it was a nice and peaceful protest: About two dozen wolves, some jackals, and three hyenas were doing the banners and sign song and dance – nothing terribly original, and their chants weren’t particularly memorable either.

Finding the officer in charge among the eight officers present, Nick and Judy reported in: “Officers Hopps and Wilde from precinct one – we’ve been ordered to help out here?”

A very non-plus’d looking ram with insignia denoting him as a police lieutenant gave the briefest of nods in return: “Right… of course Bogo would send his celebrities over here. Just go over to the meat freaks and keep them quiet – and tune to channel three on your radios”

Amazed by the overwhelming enthusiasm of their commanding officer, the duo walked over to the thirty-some canines to check things out and keep them from being too rowdy. This turned out to be very easy:

Between the wolves and the hyenas, there were half a dozen old “Legalize awoo” shirt wearers, from the old howling-protests thirty or so years ago. This also meant that most of the protesters were at least fifty if not older – there wasn’t a rowdy youngster among them. Their gimmick for attracting attention was also quite benign: Aside from their banners and signs, then they were also handing out cold bottled water with protest fliers taped to them to the mammals jogging past them in the park – apparently the park was a popular spot for local senior citizens trying to keep fit and stay active during this time of day.

It was actually quite nice to see the small protest just happening peacefully. Many a curious elderly prey came up and chatted with the wolves – and with the recent news like the bike-lock basher finally hitting the tabloids then it wasn’t difficult for the protesters to present themselves as very legit underdogs, plus with the arguments being between largely older mammals, then nobody’s tempers ever got to the point of flaring up too quickly.

Of course, the peace didn’t last:

“Nick… remember those anti-fang stickers we found on the ZU campus?” Judy called over the radio.

The fox had a quick look around. He couldn’t spot Judy to begin with: “Fang and tongs? Why? And where are you?”

“I’m up on the streetlight, but check out the flag being waved around over by the hardware store” Judy said, drawing Nick’s gaze briefly skyward to see her sitting up on a streetlight near him, but then over to a large hardware store.

In front of the hardware store stood five mammals in black pants, black hoodies and one of them had a big old black flag with the anti-fang logo on it. It looked like they were waiting for more mammals to show up.

Nick quickly hurried over to the ram lieutenant: “Sir, we might have trouble – the black-clad mammals over there, the flag they have, they look exactly like the same anti-fang mammals that attacked us last Friday at ZU. If more of them show up we’re going to need backup in riot gear”

As befit a police lieutenant, the ram remained both calm and stoic in face of the news Nick had brought him: “All-right. Notify the other officers, but don’t use the radio – who knows if these anti-fang mammals are listening in on us. Tell everyone to be on standby to move to safety on my command. I don’t want us getting trapped here by a mob like you did”

Quickly walking around to the other pairs of officers, and Judy, Nick spread the news. Judy was glad to hear that the sergeant seemed to recognize the potential danger of the situation: “I’ll stay up here to keep a look-out until we get the order to bug out”

“Right… if only the others shared your enthusiasm” Nick commented, sounding not particularly impressed with the responses he had gotten from the other precinct four officers.

Judy looked down at the fox. Even with his sunglasses she knew Nick well enough to recognize him trying to conceal a worried tone: “What’s wrong?”

“The two deer over by the fountain” Nick said, nodding towards to officers near the public fountain and salt-lick: “…they ‘hinted’ earlier that we’re replacing two officers who called in sick on purpose because they didn’t want to protect pro-meat protestors… and those two didn’t sound very hot about this gig either”

Being up on a streetlight, Judy couldn’t really be seen frowning – but she was: “We’re cops – we’re not always supposed to like the stuff we have to… oh hell”

“What, what is it?” Nick asked, just as Judy jumped down from the streetlight and made a bee-line towards the ram. Nick took the lack of answer as a sign that things were quite serious.

Bouncing quickly over to the sergeant, Judy reported her sighting: “Sir, I just saw about four dozen mammals group up around the anti-fang flag and pull on balaclavas! We need to call for back-up now!”

“They what?” the ram said, sounding surprised that the anti-fang group would be so brazen – and suitably worried. He grabbed his radio and spread the word: “All squads. Pull back and regroup at the southern park entrance!”

Judy could not believe what she was hearing: “Sir – what about the protestors?”

“Tell them to pack up and scatter – now come on, we’re not equipped to fight a mob” the ram said as he hightailed it towards the southern entrance.

Dumbfounded that the officer in charge simply given up, Judy hurried back to Nick: “Nick – we have to warn the protestors!”

“I think they got the message already – look, they’re already packing up their stuff” the fox said, sounding suitably disappointed, but resigned to obey the order he had been given.

Looking at Nick, Judy found herself torn: She knew that new police officers tended to obey orders without question – but… staying and keeping the elderly predators safe would mean that they would be horribly out-numbered, and the anti-fang goons had already showed once that they were perfectly willing to attack police: “Nick we have to help them pack up and get away”

“You nearly got killed less than a week ago” Nick tried to say, but Judy was already heading towards the protestors.

The old predators seemed resigned to retreating – but none of them were happy about it: “Why in my days, kids respected their elders”

“Please Ma’am, right now we have to get out of here” Judy pleaded, picking up a box of pamphlet half her size.

The mob of anti-fang mammals weren’t in any hurry, but seeing the police and the protestors flee only emboldened them – but once the ten officers were entrenched at the southern entrance, with the elderly protestors shielded behind them only thanks to Nick and Judy helping them along, then the anti-fang mob lost at least some of their momentum: The hedges and brick-fences that lined the entrance made for a bottle-neck that negated the anti-fang mob’s numeric superiority. This of course didn’t stop them from shouting obscenities at the police officers.

“Fascists!” they shouted at the few predator officers present. “Traitors!” they shouted the prey officers. It all ranged from accusations of being in league with the meat-eaters, to being complicit in spreading fear and terror. None of it was in any way kind in how they expressed their dislike and opinions on the situation… but it wasn’t until the first rock came flying and hit the ram lieutenant on his horn that Judy had enough.

Stepping forward, Judy shouted: “Ok who threw that? Who thought it was a bright idea to throw a rock at a police officer? Come on you cowards – hiding behind your masks – at least stand by your own actions!”

Scattered shouts of “Traitor” and “Meat-fascist” were the only replies she got before Nick managed to pull her back.

The stand-off continued for few more tense minutes before backup arrived… well… sort of – it was three large vans to bus the dozen and a half elderly predators home. The anti-fang group cheered on as the vans drove off with their passengers before they finally dispersed, their mission accomplished. 

Nick and Judy returned to precinct one, with Judy steaming mad, as the masked mammals chanted that they had “Beat the meat”.

“Hey you two – oh… did something happen?” Clawhauser asked, as the duo walked up from the motor-pool.

Judy, still upset, just trudged past him, while Nick shrugged apologetically in passing: “Another meat protest, another run-in with anti-fang, but hey at least nobody got hurt”

Clawhauser nodded: “Alright cool” but sent Judy a worried look as she bee-lined for the stairs up the office level.

Following Judy, Nick had to ask where she was going: “Hey fluff – what are we doing up here?”

“We’re talking to Bogo – that lieutenant back in the park – it can’t be right that he didn’t do more to protest the protestors. If we hadn’t helped them they would have been overrun!” Judy said through clenched teeth.

Slowing his gait ever so slightly so he could get some distance between the angry bunny, Nick found himself rather intimidated by Judy’s furious scowl.

Knocking hard on the chief’s door, Bogo barely managed to say “Enter” before Judy had swung the door open and stomped in – as much as a bunny with fuzzy feet could stomp.

“Ah, back already from the protest?” the cape buffalo said, his tone stern but genuine.

Judy showed the chief her body-cam footage: The anti-fang mob gathered in the distance, the sergeant giving the order to retreat without any specific considerations for the protestors.

“I see. Well Hopps, I’ll give you that the lieutenant should have given more thought to the safety of the protestors, but from what I’ve been told then a lot of the other precinct chiefs have issued orders to avoid engagements with anti-fang mobs when out-numbered and ill-prepared… and we can’t show up in full riot gear to every protest before trouble starts” Bogo said, speaking thoughtfully.

The order to avoid engagements with anti-fang mobs was apparently born out of the fights with the BESERC militia: City hall had figured that the anti-fang cells were an expression of popular dissent against meat-eaters – and to maintain the image of the ZPD still being in control, then situations like the Xander-extraction battle had to be avoided at all costs: “If we’re seen being beaten and sent packing over and over it will only erode the public trust in us – so while the sergeant did fail to consider the safety of the protestors, then he was just trying to obey orders to avoid a fight he couldn’t win. There are wider political concerns with this. We have to maintain the impression of law and order to the public”

Judy could only nod, her ears drooping down over her shoulders. Nick gave her a comforting pat on the back: “Come on fluff, our shift is over – let’s just go home and unwind”

About a week later the situation hadn’t improved much. Other Meat-Rights Advocates had tried to hold protests, but in the few cases where they were able to pay up for the ever-increasing amounts of security required at their venues then few had been able to pull of the events without incidents: Between pulling fire alarms and ambushing attendees that filed out of the buildings with rotten eggs, or sending bomb-threats that invariably turned out to be fake to the various venues, then it was not easy to maintain a civil public discourse on the topic.

In turn, the “preygressive” proponents for increasing regulations on production and the sale of meat products were given a lot of media coverage. Shows on ZNN and the other news networks were never short on pundits to speak positively of the brave anti-meat activists who fought for the peace of mind of all prey – though Nick and Judy made it a point to ignore political news in general, so most news on those topics they got second hand from Clawhauser or Finnick.

It was a Thursday morning in the bullpen. Nothing that out of the ordinary: Fangmeyer and Grisolli had been assigned to investigate a series of break-ins in some down-town warehouses, McHorn and Trunkaby had been put on a grand larceny case at a machine shop in Tundratown to assist a detective on the scene. Nick and Judy had been told that they needed to go back to ZU…

“You two remember detective Sleeves, right?” Bogo inquired, tapping a case folder.

Nodding, Judy replied: “Of course – is he back on active duty already?”

“After a fashion – he’s still in a wheel-chair. That lion did a number on him, but he can do desk work, and he got the bike-lock basher case. He’s in office twenty-three – I believe he needs you to go interview a witness” Bogo explained, his intonation revealing a great deal of respect for the coati’s endurance.

In Detective Sleeves’ office – part of the recently rebuilt office wing of Precinct One, the old one having been destroyed during a fire set by a lion trying to cover up the criminal conspiracy he had been part of at the time – the duo found their colleague behind a very nice new desk: “Hey you two”

The coati’s voice was strong and feisty – but his slow arm movements betrayed lingering damage, as he waved the bunny and fox over.

“Ok, the confession you got on body-cam has made this really easy – and the bike-lock has been tested positive for your blood Judy, but me and the prosecutor are pretty sure that Spytlik’s defence will try to argue that the lock was picked and stolen during the riot… so I need you to go and talk to a few mammals at ZU to nail down exactly what he did that day, so we can shoot down any alibi he tries to put up” the detective explained.

Nodding, Nick couldn’t help but feel just a little apprehensive about returning to ZU: “You know… when we arrested the guy – I don’t think we’ll be very popular if we just show up and start asking questions”

“Oh I know – that’s why you’ll be in your civvies when you go there. Check out one of the unmarked cars in the motor-pool, or take the bus there. It’s not really an undercover gig, but… chances are that at least some of the mammals you’ll be talking to won’t talk to anyone who presents themselves as cops – so feel free to get creative, as long as you can get a recording of what they say” Sleeves elaborated, smiling a lot more than what one might think a mammal who looked so banged up would.

Judy beat Nick to questioning this rather dubious-sounding evidence gathering: “So… its undercover evidence collection?”

“Sort of – but this is more to probe things… gather names that we can call as witnesses to confirm where he was or not, even if they come in as hostile witnesses – this gives you a lot of legal leeway in what you can do, since you’re not collecting evidence for court, just canvasing for witnesses” Sleeves explained, sounding just a bit too happy at the idea of tricking anti-fang supporters into spilling the beans on Spytlik.

With the understanding that the procedure – while unorthodox – was legal, the duo agreed to it.

“Oh and by the way… from what we can tell on social media, then a lot of the anti-fang mammals that attacked you two weeks ago at ZU took trophies. Anything they could snatch off the mammals they were beating on. If you catch wind of anyone with stuff like that… we have the DNA of most of the security wolverines and the students who were attacked on file. I would love to send some anti-fang mammals to the prosecutor’s office” Sleeves noted, his smiling turning into full on vindictive glee.

Backing out of the office slowly, the duo regrouped in the break lounge to talk about how they could infiltrate the ZU anti-fang community…

“Well, we could always try to talk to Spytlik’s colleagues first – the other professors, and a secretary or something. You know, get confirmation on if he had classes that day and if he actually showed up to them?” Judy suggested in-between sips to her nine-o-clock cup of coffee.

Nick nodded, but also looked as if he was thinking up a storm: “That’s not a bad idea – but we still need an excuse to show up in the first place. If we just trudge up and go door to door with the professors… we might get made – and I for one do not want to be caught by an anti-fang flash-mob”

“True. I haven’t really done that much undercover work… and never the planning for it” Judy noted.

Suddenly Nick looked as if he had gotten the greatest idea since the full body fur-drier. Whipping out his phone, he quickly called someone up: “Finnick – yes it’s me – you remember our old booze runs to ZU? Right – wanna do another one?”

It was strange for Judy, to see Nick back in his old element. Sure, it was Finnick who was doing all the purchasing – fifty or sixty polar-bear sized bottles of cheap vodka from Tundratown, some kind of camel-made hooch from Sahara Square and some other stuff that Judy didn’t even want to know what was… ya, there wasn’t that much room left in the back of the van – but it was Nick and Finnick up in front.

“Are we there yet?” Judy asked from back in the van, but between the rattling bottles and the engine noise, then nobody up in front could hear her.

When the back door finally opened up, Judy tumbled out, dazed and confused. Before she regained her bearings, she heard someone jokingly ask: “Nice – is she for sale too?”

As Judy got up she found Finnick busy selling bottle hand over hoof. Nick was acting as look-out. Apparently word had already spread that the best booze-dealers on campus had made a surprise comeback, so there was no shortage of costumers looking to stock up for the weekend or other future parties. The hooch-hustle was real.

Shaking her head, Judy wandered away from the gathering to get an overview of things: One of the things that her and Nick had discussed was if they could attract some anti-fangs that she could talk to with the booze-sale. It turned out that she didn’t have to look long, though it was how she had imagined it.

A giraffe and three wildebeests – all four young women - were putting up anti-fang posters on a near-by poster column. In her very casual outfit, complete with a little book-satchel to round off the look of a student, Judy bounced up to them…

“So what did Wendy say?”

“No, Wendy is a bitch. Don’t listen to her. Plus she has a pred room-mate, so she’s basically a traitor already. You should ask Trudy”

“Trudy the aardvark or Trudy the cow?”

“Cow, of course – aardvarks eat bugs, that makes her a pred”

Judy marvelled at the pettiness of the gossip, but still, drawing on the same reserves she called upon when at particularly boring family parties, she asked: “Hey – what are you putting up?”

The posters were quite simple. The anti-fang logo featured quite prominently at the bottom right, but most of the posters were filled with very large font text that read “Day of absence: Do your part for a peaceful campus – Day of no preds” and underneath that it, in smaller text it read “All meat eaters are highly encouraged to join in as a show of solidarity” right next to a small Anti-Fang logo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ZU's alternate name could very well have been Evergreen. I mean, the name sounds very zootopia-esque... guess what's going to happen next?


	8. Consumed By Hatred

“So that’s the idea? Draw them out into a confrontation? How is that any different from what we’ve been doing already?”

“Notice the small print… and remember – civilians crack under pressure a lot faster than cops. This is all about setting a precedent”

…

In the middle the ZU campus, about a stones-throw or two away from where Nick and Finnick were selling cheap booze to students, Judy looked at the four prey students putting up posters with the anti-fang logo.

One of the wildebeest girls, dressed in a dangerously casual, unwashed and food-stained pair of jeans and worn off-white T-shirt, turned to Judy and sized up the bunny – smiling: “Ah hey – it’s cool, it’s just posters for the annual day of absence”

“Oh cool. What’s that about? I’m still new here – I wasn’t here when it happened last…” Judy said, trying to get some information.

The giraffe girl giggled: “Hehe, check the freshmen…”

“Hey high-and-mighty, how about you clue me in instead of laughing at me?” Judy shot back, taking no quarter and accepting no guff – Finnick had advised her strongly to show a strong front to the mammals she would talk to, since that would supposedly be very appealing to the mammals dabbling in anti-fang support and activism.

Indeed, the three wildebeest girls were caught quite off guard to see the rabbit doe before them talk back to a mammal so many times her own size.

“Wow sister, take it easy – it’s cool. The day of absence, it’s like a really old tradition here at ZU. Like, the one the year after Bellwether all the sheep on campus gathered and made it a day of atonement, spreading out and working for a day at every homeless shelter and charity they could find in the city. Catie, what was it last year?” one of the wildebeest girls said, looking to her two peers.

Catie thought for a moment, then answered: “Wasn’t that the elephants, rhinos and hippos and other big mammals, to acknowledge their size privilege?”

“Ok cool – and the posters say it like, this time it’s all predators? Isn’t that a lot more than just hippos and elephants?” Judy asked, feeling just a little dirty in having to play ignorant.

The giraffe let out a rather disgusted and un-ladylike grunt: “They need to respect that a lot of us prey don’t feel safe around them around. Having preds in class can be very triggering. You should take a class in prey studies, that’ll explain everything”

“Ok – but, wait… wasn’t the teacher for that like arrested for beating up students or something?” Judy asked, not able to refrain from challenging the women before her.

At first the wildebeest seemed a little confused. It was as if their trains of thought had been a bit derailed with how Judy had phrased her question. The giraffe reacted first: “That is like total bullshit and you know it! – he was fighting the good fight, trying to get meat-fascists off our campus. My boyfriend said that he kicked like twenty of them at that protest, showed those filthy meat-murderers what’s what”

Suddenly finding the giraffe student very interesting, in that she seemed to imply that her boyfriend had been one of the anti-fang attackers from two weeks ago, Judy found her curiosity piqued: “That sounds really cool – I mean, I don’t want to sound to fan-girly, but I’m just a little rabbit… a big fight like that is way too much for me”

“No, it’s cool – we all have to support the herd in our own way. I don’t like the fighting either, I’m thinking when I get my prey-studies degree, I can work in a re-education camp for predators, to teach them to not eat meat” another of the wildebeest said, creeping Judy the hell out.

The third wildebeest girl chimed in that she considering to change major to dentistry for the same reason: “Then I can work with you to snip all the chompers” 

With her curiosity quickly turned into a mix of disgust and fright, Judy couldn’t help but get an almost cultish vibe from the wildebeest girls. The bunny knew well enough that the three alone weren’t representative of all anti-fang supporters, but good grief… from having a boyfriend who was apparently part of the attack, to thinking that all predators would be rounded up and sent to gulags for dietary re-education, to wanting to de-fang all predators? What had Spytlik been teaching these mammals?

“Hey did you see the latest episode of O’Chra? The stag with the plastic fangs?”

“Oh I know, total species-traitor… would never date someone like that, even if he has sexy antlers”

Pretending to get a text message while the girls began gossiping around stuff they had seen on TV, Judy scampered off to get some distance from the four mammals. Texting Nick, she reported her findings so far: “Hey Nick, you are not going to believe what some anti-fang supporters I just met think is going to happen…”

About ten minutes later Nick met up with Judy at the building for social studies. Judy couldn’t help but notice how disappointed Nick looked: “Something wrong?”

“All that money… and I didn’t get a cut” Nick mused, shaking his head idly. Judy frowned, but recalled that Nick had always told her that a brisk booze run was one of his favourite ways to turn a quick dime back when he hustled.

Shaking off his funk, Nick crouched down Judy’s level and inquired about her findings: “So, what’s happening?”

Judy filled Nick in, with Nick agreeing that her description of how the wildebeest girls had spoken was rather creepy: “You sure you’re not just laying it on thick?”

“If you think that all predators are magically going to show up in re-education camps to be taught to not eat meat… or willingly get their teeth removed? Maybe it’s a ZU thing, but I just don’t see how anyone can imagine something like that. Honestly Nick, I’m surprised that you’re not as freaked out about this as you are” Judy replied, visibly upset.

With a shrug, Nick turned towards a nearby building: “I’m chalking that up to you losing some of the impact in translation. You don’t speak crazy-talk, something I’m quite happy about, so you can’t tell it to me like they did to you”

While the information about the campus-wide day of absence was interesting, then it wasn’t really relevant to the investigation – well, at least not yet. Both Nick and Judy agreed that a demand to have all the predators leave campus would probably be quite polarising and unpopular with a lot of students. Still, the duo needed to talk to Spytlik’s colleagues – the other teachers – to get a read on what kind of teacher Spytlik was.

Without appointments, it turned out to be rather difficult to get a moment to talk with anyone. In retrospect, this shouldn’t have surprised anyone, but the whole point of the little informal operation had been to avoid tipping anyone off that police were coming to gather information about Spytlik.

“How about we check in with Mulberry? He teaches biology – maybe he knows something?” Judy suggested.

At Mulberry’s office, the duo was met by the delightful scent of bacon hanging in the air – sure, it was bacon grown off samples from the porky professor’s own flesh, but it was still good.

“Ah my friends – what are you two doing here? Didn’t think the ZPD would dare set a hoof on campus after you two carried off Spytlik” Mulberry said as he spotted the duo enter his office.

Adopting a casual pose of foxy swagger, Nick simply shrugged: “We’re actually here to get a read on Spytlik as a teacher – for the investigation – but you’re right, and that’s why we’re not in uniform”

The derisive snort that came from Mulberry sent tiny bits of half-chewed bacon flying half-way across the office: “Don’t call him that. Spytlik didn’t teach – he indoctrinated”

“I’m sorry, what?” Judy wondered, asking the obvious question.

Mulberry frowned, his bristles rising: “Spytlik was hired about two years ago, but the kids that go into his class come out less prepared to face society than when they come in. He trains activists, he doesn’t educate students”

“Ouch – do you have anything we could use to prove that?” Judy followed up.

The pig rubbed his brow: “Just look at the curriculum he uses… or check the papers he grades. A lot of students take prey studies as an easy A for their electives, but anyone from actual STEM studies who touch that stuff usually run away screaming after the first week”

Inquiring into who else might know something, Mulberry gave the duo some names in the psychology department and two names from the sociology department: “Stoneson in psychology should be happy to help, if he has time. Not sure about the two in sociology though”

“That’s ok – this is all we came here to get. I figure we’ll call these jokers in to talk with us at precinct one, see if they’ll show up or not” Nick said, sounding pleased as punch.

With a pleased nod, Mulberry was about to wave goodbye, but Judy cut in and asked a question that had been nagging her: “Hey Professor, before we go – have you heard about this day of absence thing?”

“Oh sure. That’s an old ZU tradition – every year some part of the student body skips class to do some little bit of activism” Mulberry replied as he picked up what looked like some papers due to be graded.

Nick looked at Judy, quickly picking up on where she was going: “Perhaps – but we’ve just learned that this year it’s supposed to be all the predators and meat-eaters on campus who are supposed to leave for a day”

The sharp but brief sound of paper hitting Mulberry’s desk punctuated the professor’s train of thought instantly grinding to a halt: “Preds and meat-eaters? How oddly specific”

“What’s going to happen when they ask you to leave? I mean, you and your bacon thing isn’t exactly a secret around here?” Judy inquired; the worry in her tone as hard to miss as it was sincere.

Craning his neck, Mulberry smiled at Judy: “Oh please, it’s a student event. The only staff that ever gets involved would be nuts like Spytlik. I teach biology, not that soft science nosh, plus I have tons of papers to grade and labs to supervise”

Returning to Precinct One, the duo reported their findings to Sleeves. The coati was quite happy with the names they had gotten, after which the duo lined up at Bogo’s office to clue him in on their worries about the day of absence event.

“You mean to tell me, that the same group of thugs that nearly got you killed are trying to shoo all the predators on ZU off campus for a day? When is this?” Bogo inquired, Nick and Judy standing before the looming cape buffalo.

It was never fun to bring news of potential future trouble to Bogo – especially not when it was news of someone planning on doing something stupid that that they were very much allowed to do, which would quite likely end in trouble: “Next week chief, next Thursday”

“Amazing. Alright – I’ll have a chat with the Dean, and at least warn her that if anti-fang is involved with that, then there’ll likely be trouble the moment any predator refuses to leave” the chief stated, sounding thoroughly displeased to have his workload increased.

With a tentative gesture, Judy signalled that she had something more to say. Bogo nodded at her.   
Straightening her back, Judy said: “Sir, it’s not just predators – the poster I saw said ‘meat eaters’ – I think omnivores like Professor Mulberry will get targeted as well”

“The bacon-cook. Of course. Did you talk to him about this?”

Both Nick and Judy nodded, with Nick adding: “He seemed certain that it would only be a thing for students… we don’t think so”

His brows furrowing like tectonic plates colliding into mountain-ranges, Bogo simply let out a long and drawn out groan, giving the duo a dismissive wave.

The next week passed with an un-easy peace over the city. There were more protests, there were more small skirmishes between small groups of predators and comparably larger groups of anti-fang counter-protestors, but nothing grand. Bogo didn’t mention the day of absence during that Thursday morning briefing in the bullpen, which led the duo to believe that things had either been smoothed over or turned out to be a non-issue.

Of course, the duo had gotten other things to worry about: Since breaking up the protest at the highway, Judy had begun getting hate-mail again, which only got worse that afternoon after they got home from work:

“Damn-it, am I going to have to re-route my mail to the precinct again?” Judy said in a fit of frustration, tossing the fourth letter full of glitter and an anonymous death-threat into the trash.

Nick found himself challenged – not wanting to giggle over seeing Judy half-covered in sparkly glitter, which was hell to get out of fluffy fur: “Fluff, you’re taking getting death threats in the mail awfully calmly…”

Stomping into the bathroom while taking off her clothes – another display that Nick found himself very ‘challenged’ by with regards to staying serious and on-topic, because let’s be honest: Judy’s backside was not something one just looked away… especially when it sparkled.

“Are you going to come help me?” Judy called from the bathroom. Nick let out a sigh of relief and somehow managed to strip down completely by the time he got to the bathroom door.

The next day in the bullpen, Bogo seemed to be his usual serious and surly self as he waved a thick binder full of assignments about: “Alright. We have a nice and busy docket today. The Gulifer investigation is wrapping up and I believe the team on that will need help making arrests, and some of you will be taking part in some polite visits to the illegal tree-top growers we learned of yesterday in the rainforest district. Finally, we have-“

Clawhauser had popped his head in, with a somewhat frightened look on his face – and it wasn’t the usual fearful look of someone who had to interrupt Bogo, it was something else.

“Yes?” Bogo inquired, making it very clear that this had better be worth it.

Not handing Bogo a phone, which was the usual reason for Clawhauser to disrupt the briefing, the fat cheetah instead reached out with a remote and turned on the TV in the bullpen to ZNN without saying a word – the shocked look on his face said it all.

“This is live from ZU. We are witnessing a riot. It was apparently caused by one or more mammals who refused to participate in the mandatory Day of Absence event yesterday. A smaller number of pro-meat activists seem to have barricaded the building with the teachers inside, seemingly holding them hostage which has angered several hundred students gathered outside, who are trying to break in” the ZNN news anchor explained, all the while images of black-clad and balaclava-wearing anti-fang groups were shown to be trying to break in through doors blocked by students into a ZU building.

Bogo took a single deep breath: “Why are we first hearing about this now?”

“I don’t know – you’d think the Dean or someone would have called us, right? Or someone calling nine-one-one” Clawhauser replied, looking as he was shrinking under Bogo’s harsh and scrutinizing gaze.

Turning to the day shift assembled in the bullpen, Bogo quickly put down the binder: “Hopps, Wilde – take a cruiser, get there quickly and find out exactly where and why this is taking place, and spot us the best points to deploy. Everyone else to the armory, I want everyone suited up in riot gear and ready to deploy in twenty-five minutes! Go!”

Nick and Judy didn’t question why they had been given recon duty, they just darted out of the bullpen ahead of everyone else and made for the motor-pool.

“You think Bogo is sending us ahead because he doesn’t want me getting into a fight?” Judy wondered as they drove off.

Nick checked the charge on his taser and his spare batteries: “Maybe it’s so you can get a few good arrests in before everyone else shows up?”

“Oh… that does sound tempting” Judy noted, getting that wonderful predatory look on her face again.

En-route to ZU the duo got an update from Bogo: “One-Ten-Six, come in”

“We read you chief” Nick replied.

The chief had apparently had a ‘chat’ with the dean of ZU, a sadly unproductive one: “She’s blaming Professor Mulberry and the students who are trying to defend him for having riled up the students and picked a fight. Supposedly another teacher and a group of students came to him about an hour ago, demanding an explanation for something about the day of absence. Things somehow magically got out of hand, and now Mulberry’s students are fighting the students who ‘just came to get an explanation’ from them”

“The ones who ‘just wanted an explanation’ would be the balaclava-wearing model citizens, right?” Nick wondered sarcastically.

“Indeed. Now why the dean would throw one of her biggest grant-earners under the bus is personally beyond me, but this would explain why campus security didn’t seem to be doing anything about the fighting in the news coverage, or why we weren’t alerted – so be careful” Bogo followed up.

“Well that is just peachy. Is everyone ready in your end? We’re pulling on to the campus right now” Nick said, the satnav making with the ‘destination reached’ beep.

There was a moment’s pause, probably Bogo checking everyone else what their status was: “We’ll be ready to move in five – we’re still loading the trucks. See if you can get contact with Mulberry and figure out if anyone is in charge of the students trying to attack him. Over and out”

Approaching the building with the biology labs, the duo found that all the students who knew what was good for themselves were staying well away – or attending classes if they had any – but there were still hundreds, if not thousands, of curious eyes and raised smartphones looking at the fighting from a distance. They parted without resistance as the duo slowly rolled up in their cruiser.

Suddenly someone knocked on Nick’s passenger-side window. Judy slowed the cruiser to a halt, and Nick rolled down the window to a very agitated yellow-throated martin: “Yes?”

“Yes? How the fuck can you just go yes? They’re trying to kill Mulberry and his students!” the martin said so fast his speech pretty much slurred into a fast-forward blur.

Nick nodded: “Calm down – help is on its way. We’re just the scouting party. Do you know who’s in charge of the attack?”

The martin thought for a moment, but a very sharp sound of glass and plastic straining and cracking, as a thrown cobble-stone lodged itself in the cruiser’s windshield, startled the young student and made Nick roll up his window. More rocks followed – some two dozens of black-clad anti-fang goons had started throwing things at the car. The high-pitched clinks and sounds of glass breaking as bottles were thrown followed suit very quickly.

“We need to pull back! We… why are you gunning the engine?” Nick just barely managed to ask, before Judy dropped a lead rabbits-foot on the gas, charging the cruiser forward in blatant violation of all kinds of fun and entertaining police protocols.

It wasn’t entirely clear what Judy’s plan had been – but it seemed to work: The anti-fang goons in front of the cruiser leapt out of the way, more following suit as Judy flicked on the sirens. Sure, it drew a lot more attention to the cruiser, but it also seemed to have the effect of spooking a lot of the nearby anti-fang goons.

To Nick it felt like an eternity of muttering “Please don’t run anyone over” over and over, but after just about ten or so seconds Judy had managed to clear a path to the biology labs buildings and the doors which were being defended by bruised and battered students.

“Get in – check on Mulberry and get a head count, I’ll keep our exit clear” Judy commanded, fire in her eyes.

As much as Nick really didn’t want to leave the safety of the cruiser, then the fox cracked his door open and slinked out, staying close to the ground as he ran up the steps to the door. The students at the door, armed with broken broom-handles and make-shift shields made out of dented trash-bin lids and metal trays, gladly welcomed him inside.

Inside the building Nick was met with an absolutely surreal scene. Students lining the halls, all of them with an eerie mix of hope and terror in their eyes as the saw Nick. Most of them looked ok, just very frightened, though there were a few who looked as if they had been on the receiving end of the anti-fang mob surrounding the building’s exits.

Finding Mulberry wasn’t difficult: Nick just followed the sound of angry male pig screaming into a phone in one of the nearby labs:

“…the hell do you mean by that? No I won’t calm down – I already told you what they tried to pull!” Mulberry said, his bristles high, looking at the phone as if he was wishing whoever he was talking to would simply halt and catch fire.

Knocking on the doorframe, Nick tried to get the professor’s attention: “Hey? Did they finally confiscate all the porn on your computer?”

The pig spun around in a rather peculiar way, leaving the phone to hang from its wire: It was not an annoyed ‘turning around to see who just sassed you’ kind of way – it was a much more jittery and jerky motion, his right arm drawn up ready to punch something. It was a defensive motion, made in fear: “What, who?”

In the split second that Mulberry recognized Nick he relaxed his posture, but the reaction had none the less spoken volumes to Nick of the situation: “Backup will be here soon – I’m just in here for a head-count and a sit-rep first”

“Finally, yes. We have eighty-seven students and two other teachers in here. Two students with minor head-injuries, but they’ve gotten first aid and aren’t bleeding anymore, plus at least a dozen and a half with bruises from holding the doors” the professor dutifully recounted, sounding both proud and sad to be able to give off such numbers.

Nick looked around in the lab. Students were cutting up white lab coats into long strips and cooking up strange chemical grey goo: “Alright – but… cheese I don’t even know where to start. What’s going on here? Why are you here? Why are you cutting up lab-coats? Why haven’t you just locked the doors to the building? How did this all start?”

“Hehe, you sound like my grad students” the pig said, sounding inappropriately cheerful as he pulled out a stick of bacon from a pocket and bit down, motioning for Nick to follow him.

Following the professor, Nick was clued in on the situation: “We’re making bandages with antibacterial gel in the lab – no sense in getting infections from any of this – and we’re pretty sure the mob outside aren’t disinfecting the stuff they’re throwing at us. The labcoats? They’re just are cheap cotton rags, makes good bandages through. Also we can’t lock the doors, they’re electronic and won’t let anyone lock them during school hours in case anyone needs to evacuate in a hurry, this being a building with labs and potentially dangerous chemistry… you know, safety regulations”

They passed several classrooms with students huddled in groups, some of them crying, a lot of them looking very unsure about the situation.

“Now, what happened was that just as I was starting class this capybara woman showed up, with half a dozen of the biggest anti-fang goons I’ve ever seen. She said that I was guilty of crimes against prey, as well as cannibalism, and that I was relieved of my duties and was to come with her. I asked on who’s authority, asked for documentation or some kind of proof of her allegations – that was when she just said ‘non-compliance, bring him outside’ and then this rhino in a black ski-mask behind her grabbed me!” Mulberry told as the two wearily checked in on the situation at one of the doors.

“I’m going to assume that the mob outside now was waiting for you outside back then too?” Nick said, debating with himself internally if he should draw his dart gun.

Mulberry made a acknowledging grunting noise: “I don’t even want to know what that crazy capybara had planned for me – but I was lucky: I had eight grad students working in the lab next door, exchange students – all moose. They rushed in and rescued me, that’s how the fighting started…”

“Right – Judy, what’s the time for Bogo and the cavalry?” Nick said, speaking into his radio.

It took a few seonds before Judy replied, her voice scratchy and slightly distorted: “On their way – everyone good inside? I think there’s a radio jammer nearby – can’t get any cell-phone signals here”

“We have a few minor injuries, but the doors are automatic and can’t be locked... I should have brought tear gas grenades” Nick replied, no longer wondering why nobody had called the police earlier.

There was a tap on Nick’s shoulder. It was some of the students, with Mulberry in front: “If you can tell us what it’s made of we can probably make some…”

A sly smile crept over the fox’s muzzle: “Judy, never mind that about the tear gas…”

It took a bit of guess-work, but there was enough of a brain-trust inside the building that soon three labs started to crank out some rather unstable but non-lethal gaseous irritants. The mob outside certainly didn’t enjoy the sudden return fire while they were pelting the students blocking the doors with rocks and whatever else they had lying around. 

The anti-fang rocks were reciprocated with vials full of what could best be described as “oh gods my nose and eyes are on fire”. Sure, the amounts weren’t very much and the smoke quickly cleared, but it reduced the pressure on the doors greatly as it forced the mob away.

The only problem was that the door outside of which Judy was busy doing donuts in her police cruiser… or had – a rhino in a black ski-mask, maybe the same who had tried to nab Mulberry, at one point came up and wrestled the car to stand-still, forcing the bunny to abandon the car and seek refuge inside as it was swarmed, though she did manage to dart a couple of anti-fang thugs on her way to the door.

“Ok, let ‘em have it!” Nick shouted as Judy passed by him, a small barrage of fragile vials full of freshly brewed tear-gas-juice flying overhead out the door.

Turning around to look outside, as billowing clouds of yellow gas erupted from the broken vials on the ground, Judy saw as a few intrepid and very angry anti-fang goons manage to dodge the clouds and close the distance to the door, bats and clubs poised to strike: “Watch out”

Nick didn’t flinch as he simply levelled his dart-gun at the anti-fang goon in front, a deer or large antelope of some kind, who came to a very abrupt halt right at the door: “You really didn’t think this part through, did you?”

One dart later, with the unconscious anti-fang goon hauled inside and unmasked, the duo considered their options… or they would have – because at that moment Judy’s ears twitched: “I can hear the riot trucks – backup’s here!”


	9. Eating Their Own

“So much for a confrontation. I guess nobody could have foreseen that they started to brew their own tear-gas”

“Perhaps – but remember, the plan isn’t to have one side defeat the other, not yet anyway. This only made things all the more divisive, plus social media chatter on this is tracking as expected: The number of mammals saying they’re willing to fight against anti-fang is rising. We have built up the anti-fang so far, now we need to build up a militant counter-movement to them. We’ll have some proper street fighting soon enough for the final clash”

“Perhaps – but I’m still waiting to see that final push of yours…”

“Patience. We can’t perfectly control when these things happen – that’s the price of plausible deniability. Rushing things means you end up like Bellwether”

“Fair enough – so, any ideas on how to cook up a counter-movement to our anti-fangs?”

“The ZPD tracks several pred-centric political action groups I can ensure gets funding – they’ll beat the war-drums for us”

“Oh how I love useful idiots”  
…

The aftermath of the morning riot at the ZU bio-labs, as just barely reported on by ZNN, would make most of the think that it was caused by pro-meat students who had assaulted some anti-meat student. According to Mulberry’s testimony this was technically true – but it left out that the ‘attack’ had been part of his students rescuing him from being kidnapped from a group of anti-fang goons led by a certain capybara who the pig had identified as Marie Reeds, the same capybara who was wanted for questioning in connection with several anti-Pro-Tech protests which had devolved into riots.

Getting the formerly besieged students to safety took quite a while – a lot of them didn’t feel safe returning to their dorms alone, which meant police resources had to be used to escort them to their dorms.

Bogo was understandably furious. Where was campus security? Where was the Dean?

Mulberry ended up spending the rest of the day at precinct one talking with sketch artists, his lawyer and giving statements. Towards the end of the day as he was let go, he thanked Bogo, the duo and everyone else involved: “Thank you... I can’t say how relieved I am over all of this”

“What are you going to do now? We can’t guarantee that you’ll be safe if you go back to work – another mob might form” Bogo noted, everyone else knowing full well that there simply weren’t police resources for that.

The pig nodded thoughtfully: “Oh I know. I’ve already had my lawyer contact a company that does in bodyguards. Though I do figure it might be nice if you could spare an officer or two to escort me on campus tomorrow – for when I deliver my lawsuit for dereliction of duty and depraved indifference to the dean…”

Apparently Mulberry had used his time between talking to the sketch artist and giving statements to set up a lovely little civil suit aimed at the Dean, because who else to blame for campus security not having been there to do their job when the anti-fang goon-squad showed up? Oh the fallout from that would be fun.

“Shouldn’t be impossible – we don’t know when campus security will be back… or even why they weren’t there – I would very much like to know this myself” Bogo noted, looking at Nick and Judy who both suddenly felt very voluntold to escort the professor the next day, though it turned out that they had managed to snag a car scaled for a slightly larger driver. This happened every now and then – but it was possible to re-adjust the driver’s seat manually… though it would always snap back to the default setting when you turned the car off, which was annoying as hell.

Meeting with Mulberry and his lawyer, a very dour looking giraffe, at the courthouse was rather uneventful. It was just past nine, and the giraffe had all the paperwork for the lawsuit ready – it just needed to be served.

“Again I have to advice against serving this in person. I know several accredited services that can serve these papers – returning to ZU will only put you in danger” the giraffe said again, her voice sounding very much as if she needed three or four more cups of coffee to properly rise from the dead for the day, if the bags under her eyes were any indication.

With a knowing nod to Nick and Judy, Mulberry simply smiled at his lawyer: “Jenifer, I know you mean well – but all this lunacy started because mammals in power forgot that there are faces to the names they write off. I think the dean is in dire need of a reminder of that”

“Right – just don’t wave around any bacon at anyone…”

With the morning rush-over lone gone, the ride to ZU was quick and easy. Parking at the main ZU administrative building, the three casually walked up the front steps… and stopped very quickly.

“Judy, correct me if I’m wrong – but campus security don’t usually look like they were eaten alive by a Teen Rebel shop and then shat out into a glam-rock music video” Nick noted, observing the strange-looking group of five mammals, armed with baseball bats, who sat on the top steps to the building.

Judy’s gaze hardened, looking at the group. Every single one of them had some kind of dyed mane or fur in bright colors, but what she mainly focused on was their anti-fang arm-bands: “Arm-bands... are hoodies in short supply now?”

As the duo approached, the five mammals quickly pulled back and scattered. Between the two officers worried glances were exchanged, while Mulberry huffed triumphantly: “Cowards – what do they think they are”

“I’m pretty sure they thought they were the new campus security… which probably means there are more of them patrolling the place” Judy said, looking to see if she could spot any other such patrols.

Mulberry didn’t seem terribly daunted: “They ran off when you showed up – how bad can they be?”

“Doesn’t matter – if it was just you, do you think they would have run off, or called for backup and continued where they had left off yesterday?” Nick pointed out, to which the pig’s carefree expression turned into a far more concerned one.

Her ears having done a full scan of the area, hearing nothing that sounded like trouble, Judy advanced up the steps: “Nick… they weren’t wearing masks. Do you know that what that means?”

The professor looked at the two officers, clearly worried, but now also confused and ever so slightly curious. Nick took a deep breath: “If they’re not afraid of showing who they are… then they think they’re in charge”

“Oh boy…” Mulberry said, as the trio entered the administration building.

It turned out that there wasn’t anything to worry about inside the building – though it didn’t take much for the three to notice the very obviously tense atmosphere of the place. Everyone knew that trouble was brewing… or perhaps about to boil over.

At the Dean’s office, the trio was met by a secretary who looked rather surprised to see Mulberry, let alone two police officers, but he didn’t try to stop them from entering the Dean’s office – The professor on the other hand did: “This is my battle… not yours”

“Fair enough, but you might want to use this in there” Judy said, handing Mulberry her carrot pen.

The professor looked at the pen: “This isn’t your usual pen… the one from the Bellwether trial?”

“No, it’s a better one – the usb jack in the back lets us copy what’s one it to a computer – easier to collect evidence that way” Judy said, sounding rather proud of the improvement to her kit, not that she really needed to use it that much these days, with her uniform’s body-cam having a perfectly good microphone.

The hog entered the Dean’s office with his lawsuit paperwork and didn’t come out until a little over half an hour later, looking beaming like a pig in shit.

Following after the professor, the duo had loads of questions, but the pig just gave them the carrot pen back and said: “Yes, I still have a job – she can’t just fire a tenured professor that easily – but the poor girl is really pissed, so we’d do best to leave”

Outside, the trio took stock of their situation. Despite suddenly being annoyingly cryptic – even if he seemed to find it rather funny – Mulberry simply wanted to go home, which he didn’t really need much help with, though Nick and Judy did wait for the cab to arrive.

“What do you think went on in the Dean’s office?” Judy asked, as the cab with Mulberry drove off.

Nick looked at the carrot pen sticking out of one of Judy’s pockets: “No clue – but I’m sure it’ll make for some fun easy listening while we get to the dorms”

Judy looked at Nick for a split second before realizing what Nick was talking about: “Right, the antelope you darted when I came through the door… did you get ID on him?”

“Very much – and I think he’d like his wallet back. Perhaps we could also give him a pair of shiny cuffs while at it?” Nick suggested, patting the pocket where he had the antelope’s wallet.

Going to the dorm proceeded without much drama. This made the duo question whether the armed group at the administration building had been a one-off thing. While enroute, the duo listened to the recording from the Dean’s office – oh boy Bogo was going to love this… and then he would want to strangle the Dean, not that there was anything that could allow for an arrest if the Deaon – but it would make for useful political blackmailing material. 

About halfway to the dorm where the antelope’s student ID said he lived, the duo passed a square between ZU buildings where a small pro-meat protest was taking place. Nothing was out of the ordinary – if anything things seemed surprisingly peaceful – but as they passed by a student came up to them, a young ocelot ran up to the two officers: “Hey, I want to report a theft and destruction of private property!”

“Alright – what was stolen, what was destroyed, and do you know who did it?” Judy quickly listed off, whipping out her smartphone for note-taking, loading up the incident-report app.

The ocelot girl caught her breath, the presented her phone: “I recorded it all – we were just protesting, and this koala came up and started screaming at us, and ripping up our signs while her friends cheered her on. We were both recording it, but she swiped my friend’s phone when she saw what we were doing”

Watching through the recording was quick enough, as the ocelot quickly fast forwarded to the relevant parts showing a female koala ripping up a bunch of signs. A bit more fast-forwarding, evidently with the sign owners and the koala shouting at each other, ended with the koala swiping one of the phones pointed at her and running off.

“Well that seems fairly open and shut – do you know where she is?” Judy inquired, Nick already looking at the group of student protestors.

There weren’t much more than a dozen protestors – a mix of prey and predator students. If going by what was written on their cardboard signs, then they were protesting the right to eat ethically sourced meat – the obvious implication being that it was protest against all the Pro-Tech bashing. For the eleven or so protestors there were about three times that in curious onlookers – and despite the lack of a police or campus security presence, then things were proceeding fairly peacefully, at least at the moment.

The ocelot brought Nick and Judy up to the protest group, where she then pointed out the koala standing in a group of twenty or so other prey students a bit further away from the protest than any of the more neutral onlookers, all of which were sending very disapproving looks towards the protestors – and all of them had their phones out to record everything, as if that was meant to scare the protestors away. If it hadn’t been for the accusation of theft, Nick and Judy would have considered this perfectly normal.

“Normally we’d report this to campus security… but they haven’t been here all week” the ocelot griped.

The duo exchanged looks, Judy volunteering without saying so to go over and do the deed, leaving Nick to talk with the ocelot and the phone owner if they wanted to press charges.

Approaching the group of prey students, Judy forced on a cheerful smile and introduced herself to the koala: “Hi. I’m Officer Hopps. I’ve gotten a report of a stolen phone and some vandalized protest signs, you shouldn’t happen to know anything about that?”

Between her thick horn-rimmed glasses, the anti-fang badge on her backpack, and koala’s scowl, then Judy got all the information she needed, though she was more than willing to admit that such was mainly her own personal biases talking – still, getting a statement before moving to an arrest was a nice way to prevent any escalation of the situation.

“I only acted in self-defence” the koala girl replied, her tone full of spite, and her eyes locked on the ocelot back next to Nick in a way quite eerily reminded the bunny of Professor Spytlik.

With a polite little wave, trying to get the koala to focus on her instead, Judy pointed out the obvious: “Maam, I can see the phone sticking out of your pocket – would you please hand it over?”

Finally actually bothering to look at Judy, the Koala shot the bunny a truly murderous glare before handing over the phone: “Whatever”

Just as Judy was to follow up with an inquiry into the vandalism charge, the koala simply turned around and started to walk away: “Hey – hold on! The signs”

“They’re talking about killing and eating prey – we are only defending ourselves!” another mammal walking along with the koala shouted back at Judy.

Sixteen rapid thumps of her foot signalled Judy’s mounting displeasure. Quickly walking up in front of the koala, Judy directly confronted the young woman: “Hey, stop right there – destruction of property is a serious offense. You can’t just go around breaking other mammals’ things just because you don’t like what’s written on them. I’m going to need your name and address for this”

“I didn’t see no receipt” the koala lady said, her youthful defiance – if in almost any other situation – would have been worthy of aggressive beat poetry and admiration – but to Judy, in this particular situation… this was just another young punk and her friends who thought the rules didn’t apply to them.

Sensing that the koala was just trying to endlessly one-up herself, Judy tried to give the student a polite reality check: “Look, I’m a bunny. I’m prey just like you, so I get that you might not like seeing or hearing other mammals talking about what Pro-Tech is doing, but their products have been cleared by the courts, so committing crimes won’t improve the situation or change anything”

“That is a slur, not an argument” the koala snapped off in a huff, seemingly dismissing everything Judy had said out of hand.

Reeling her head back and briefly gazing skywards, to the peaceful clouds passing overhead while rolling her eyes, Judy snapped back to look the koala dead in the eyes and exclaimed: “Lady, that’s just not how this works and you know it. Now be a little cooperative and I might just let you off with a stern warning. If you don’t, it’s cuffs and a cell in central lockup before you go up in front of a judge for theft and vandalism. Choose wisely”

Judy knew well enough that such an ultimatum would usually result in of three things – cooperation, fight or flight – but with the video evidence then she wasn’t particularly worried about the koala running off, not that a koala would ever be able to outrun a bunny, and as for a fight then the koala’s buddies seemed to be backing away from the two, which spoke volumes about their interest in actually getting into a fight or not.

The koala was surprisingly slow in picking up that her friends had abandoned her, but with a quick and almost panicked look around, the koala finally realized that her jig was up. With a grumpy look she simply handed Judy her student ID, which Judy quickly took a photo of with her phone before handing the ID back.

“Thank you – I figure you’ll likely get your fine and citation in the mail sometime next week” Judy said in a purposely overly cheerful tone, feeling triumphant in the face of a young punk who clearly been in dire need of being knocked down a peg or two.

The koala looked like she was ready to pop, her grey fur barely able to hide how she was turning red underneath, leaving her to shout: “Hey – you said I’d be let off with a warning!?” but Judy was already off.

Returning the phone to the ocelot and her friends, the duo left towards their target to the cheers of the protestors and several of the onlookers – it seemed as if there still was support for law and order on ZU, even if the protestors had opted not to press charges for the phone theft, but Judy figured a happy little fine would be a nice reminder for the koala for the vandalism.

At the dorm where the antelope’s ID said he lived, the duo used the very same student ID to buzz themselves in at the door. Up two flights of stairs and down three halls, they quickly found the right door.

With Judy having taken point earlier, Nick took point this time around: “Ok fluff, and you’re sure he doesn’t have class now?”

“Yup – I checked what classes he’s signed up to before we left” Judy noted, looking down the hall to see if anyone was around – but there wasn’t anyone in sight.

Nick looked carefully at the rather generic dorm door, thinking on how to approach things: “What do I win if I guess that he was in one of Spytlik’s classes?”

“A participation ribbon. He’s not signed up for that right now– but he did take one last semester, and we’re clear” Judy said jokingly, checking hallway in the other direction. 

With a knock on the door, Nick said: “Yo Phil – I found your wallet”

There was a sudden but faint racket from inside the door. It sounded like a lot of empty plastic bottles and soda cans had been tipped over. A few seconds later the door began to move, a male voice saying just as the door cracked open: “Aww thanks dude – I thought it during the fight yester-fuck”

Looking at the two officers smiling up at him, the antelope froze like a deer in headlights. That Nick and Judy had their flashlights out probably helped.

“Remember me?” Nick asked, tranq gun pointed at the antelope in roughly the same fashion as how he had at the door to the biology building.

Without the hundreds of fellow masked mammals in arms to back him up, the lone antelope demonstrated far less of a fighting spirit than what the duo had previously observed. Indeed, the student surrendered on the spot without a fight.

As agreed earlier, Judy quickly ran off to fetch the car, while Nick and the antelope retreated back into the student’s room to wait. 

While there Nick read the Phil his rights, and after having calmed the student down so he would stop crying, the two talked about what had happened at the biology building and about how Phil had gotten involved in it all… after having made clear that the guy wasn’t asking for a lawyer or anything just yet.

“…and Spytlik explained to us how the systemic oppression of prey worked to prop up predators, but it wasn’t until Marie came and held her workshops at the rec center that it all just started to make sense you know: We had to resist, or we’d end up getting eaten like what they do to prey at the Pro-Tech place” the young man explained, Nick trying his very hardest to maintain a façade of serious but sympathetic in the face of such a blatantly misinformed and pretty much brainwashed young man.

“This Marie, she shouldn’t happen to be a capybara?” Nick inquired, taking his glasses off and putting them in his lap.

Phil nodded sincerely, after which he took another sip from his can of fizzy grass-juice – the same brand as the dozens of empty cans of which littered the floor of the room: “Oh ya – you know her? She’s amazing. You can’t help but feel all pumped up when she starts talking. She had a morning meetup right after breakfast at the dining hall, really got us all fired up. That was when we walked over to Meatberry to… you know… do stuff, that we probably shouldn’t’ have done”

While interrogating suspects hadn’t been something Nick had done a lot of, then the obvious parallels between that and what he had done as a hustler had left him with a good sense of how to make mammal’s talk – and in this case it seemed that the young antelope had a lot to get off his chest, though it was a bit curious to him in how the student seemed to go from enthusiastic bragging to remorseful apology almost mid-sentence. It was as if the guy was realising the severity of his actions as he was describing them.

“Who gave the order for that?” Nick asked, trying not to make his questions too leading. Testimony confirming that the capybara had actually given an order to assault and possibly murder a mammal would make arresting her a very high priority, but if someone else was calling the shots, then that was also very important to map out.

The antelope thought for a moment, then shrugged: “I don’t know – I was kinda far away from where she was talking. I just went with the flow you know, felt the herd rise up, get ready to fight! We were so pumped”

Nick nodded, hiding his disappointment. So much for that information.

“Nick, I’m parked outside” Judy suddenly called in over the radio.

Getting up, Nick gestured for the antelope to follow suit. Outside, Nick guided the antelope into the back of the cruiser before getting the front passanger seat himself.

“Everything working out?” Judy asked, sounding very much as if she was asking both Nick and the antelope.

Nick simply nodded, while the antelope nodded and went: “Ya I’m cool, sorry about the… hey”

Having flicked the switch that toned the armoured glass that separated the front and back of the cruiser, along with closing the holes in it that let mammals talk between the two compartments, Judy sighed deeply.

“A bit harsh there fluff… hard feelings?” Nick asked, looking at his partner for any signs of stress.

Judy closed her eyes for a moment, feeling out her annoyance and disregarding her minor gripes about their new car not having been set up right for her, so her she sitting a bit too low: “I just… how can he be so relaxed now? He came at me with a club yesterday… is he on drugs?”

“Unless a fizzy grass-juice addiction counts, then I didn’t see anything. No he just seems like he got swept up in the excitement. Also, I didn’t know we could do that with the rear compartment” Nick said, satisfied that Judy’s frustration was of a more immediate nature, and not something deeper seated.

Craning her neck and gripping the steering wheel briefly but tightly, Judy stuck a paw out to Nick: “We got our perp, time to celebrate – hit me”

With a smile Nick drew out the cigar tin and popped it open. Judy swiped a stick of bacon and relished in the flavour…

Normally this would have been where Judy would have turned on the engine and driven off – instead what happened was that Judy turned on the engine and then a rock the size of Nick flew in through the driver side window, passing just over Judy’s head since her seat had been set up too low, coursing over right in front of the fox, banging into the door on his side and dropping down on the mat at his feet which he only narrowly managed to yank back in time.

It had happened so fast, so suddenly…

“What the hell, is the bunny eating fucking bacon?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Busted...


	10. Hungry Viewers Waiting

“Hey look at this – my web spiders just picked this little gem up”

“Oh my. I guess I can call off what I had planned to expose her”

“I’ll make sure the rights mammals start gossiping about this. It’ll be on the evening news”

“Amazing – we barely have to do anything ourselves at this point”

“I’ll pull some strings and make sure it’s not pulled down any time soon, you make sure we can move on Bogo from this”

“I’ll do that – and something even better…”

“You know I love surprises”

… 

The take-downs were swift and by the book. Neither Nick or Judy could remember having had such adrenaline rushes any time recently:

Judy had surged out the hole in her driver-side window, Nick out of his door, to face the group of mammals that had tossed the rock – it was the female koala student and her buddies, which included a, to Judy, familiar looking wildebeest who had wanted to switch to dentistry. A lot of shouting, tasing and darts later and Phil the antelope suddenly found it rather cramped in the back-seat of the police cruiser… the darted wildebeest in particular taking up a ton of space: “Come on, this isn’t a clown car!”

Ok that’s not all that happened – so let’s rewind a bit:

The duo pounced on the offending mammals – tasers drawn before they have even exited their vehicle. Nick went after the biggest of the group, a wildebeest girl whose expression quickly changed from mean and serious to absolutely terrified as the angry fox bore down on her – despite her superior size. Judy in turn tackled the koala girl, ignoring whatever obscenities the koala was… laughing? Hold on.

“It’s out! I sent it!” the koala gleefully announced to the world at the top of her lungs… though, none of her buddies were anywhere near to hear her – expect the wildebeest girl, but she was out cold thanks to a dart from Nick.

Quickly looking around to assess their immediate situation and confirm that they weren’t in any kind of danger anymore, Judy cuffed the koala: “What do you mean out? Sent what?”

“The video you sick freak – on Pecker. You eating meat… you might have gotten me, but you’re going down now” the koala girl explained with sadistic glee, not even bothering to struggle against the cuffs.

The sound of a phone notification alerted Judy’s ears – and the rest of her – to the phone’s location. It was locked with a password… and of course the koala wasn’t exactly keen on giving that up.

Nick and Judy exchanged worried looks. They had known that this day would come sooner or later – but not like this… not when the city was in such a terrible state…

Driving their arrestees back to station one, the duo hightailed it to Bogo’s office – hoping that the video that koala had put up wouldn’t go viral before they could head it off.

“I see… and the koala refuses to take it down?” Bogo inquired, his brows furrowed like tectonic plates colliding to make blow-quakes on the cape buffalo’s forehead.

Shaking her head, Judy sighed: “At this point I don’t think even a court order would make her do that – she is obviously sympathetic to anti-fang, and hates the police right now… and me especially, both for busting her earlier for theft and vandalism – which is probably what motivated the attack – but then she saw me eating through the broken window…”

“Judy I told you; that wasn’t an attack – if your seat hadn’t been lowered for a larger driver that rock would have taken your head off – we booked them on attempted murder, remember?” Nick corrected his partner, finding it just a bit odd that the bunny would leave out a detail like that. 

Bogo let out a loud albeit brief grunt, both to get the attention of the officers before him but also to make them shut up: “Here’s what’s going to happen: We will do this exactly by the book. As of right now, you are both suspended pending an internal affairs investigation for behaviour unbecoming of an officer of the law. Since this has gone public, I will call city hall and set up an official press statement on the matter within the next hour or so. We need to be out on top of this before the evening news blasts this all over the city”

“What exactly are we going to say?” Judy asked, fearing the worst.

Switching to an eerily kind smile, Bogo drummed his large hoof-capped fingers against his desk: “Just the usual – that I suspended two officers pending an internal affairs investigation due to reports of behaviour unbecoming in view of the public. Don’t worry. IA knows full well about your N2 exposure – and I’m assuming that your snacking habit came from that, right?”

It was blatantly obvious that Bogo wasn’t just asking… he wanted what he had said to be the answer – probably because Judy starting to eat meat before her N2 exposure would complicate things needlessly…

“Well… I guess you could say that I didn’t start experimenting with meat until after I started sleeping with Nick, it just felt natural after that” Judy said, trying very hard not to lie… though she wasn’t mentioning anything about how her and Nick had been seeing each other for quite a while before the whole N2 thing had happened, or her having eaten meat for just as long.

The cape buffalo’s brow relaxed for a brief moment, then returned to its terrible frowning position: “Right. Go home, both of you. You will meet back in my office tomorrow at nine, where you will meet with some IA officers and probably someone from city hall… yes Wilde?”

Despite really wanting to stay out of all of the drama, Nick hated the idea of collective punishment, so he had to know: “Sir… why suspend me too?”

“Good grief Wilde – can’t you figure that out? As far as the world is concerned right now you’re the wily fox who corrupted the currently most famous ZPD prey officer on the force into eating meat! You’ll be lucky if there aren’t lynchmobs out for you by nightfall!” Bogo burst out, his frustration over the poorly timed situation getting the better of him for a brief moment.

In a commendable display of steely resolve, Judy didn’t recoil like Nick, instead inquiring: “But Bogo, he didn’t ‘corrupt’ me… that was the nighthowlers”

“Oh I know – but until all those files are unsealed, made public, and then entered into your IA case-files officially, then this video is all the public will be able to draw their conclusions from … now get out of here”

Returning home the duo took stock over the situation over a stiff drink or six and the rest of their bacon reserves.

“You know… pigging out… on pig… this would be great if it wasn’t for all the trouble we’re in” Judy said, sounding uncharacteristically glum while chewing on a stick of heavenly bacon.

It pained Nick to see Judy unable to enjoy her bacon – and he had to admit himself that they had somewhat lost their allure for the time being, but he had argued that they needed to empty out the apartment of incriminating evidence like meat products in case someone broke in looking for more evidence.

“What about your parents?” Nick wondered, while Judy polished off the last stick of bacon with a conflicted sigh and a mournful look of bliss on her face.

Snuggling up close to Nick on the couch and wrapping herself in his fluffy tail, Judy reluctantly whipped out her phone, looking at it in a way that clearly communicated that she didn’t want to. Taping on it a few times, hiding her face from him with her ears, Judy spoke: “Hey Pete, could you get mom on the line?”

Nick looked as Judy calmly waited. It seemed as if she had a plan of some kind – even if she didn’t seem entirely convinced that it was a good plan.

“Hey mom, I’m not pregnant” Judy said bluntly.

“No, but I still did the thing”

“Oh you know what – you had me drive to Liskville to pick up wings for you over a thousand times! Lissy started doing the same after her second litter. The shop clerks at the FFC there probably still remember me on a first name basis”

“Yes, that – since a couple of months ago”

“No, not wings – found something a lot tastier… I’d send you some samples, but now is not a good time”

“Yes, earlier today – I figure you’ll hear about it on the evening news today one way or the other”

“Oh that’s true. Who’d ever want a doe with that kind of dark secret, right?” Judy said, sounding very much as if she was twisting a figurative knife… not in herself, but in her mother.

Nick couldn’t help but wonder where Judy was going with what she was saying. Her phone was turned down enough that only her bunny hearing could pick up what was said back to her, leaving Nick out of the loop, but having met Bonnie, then he could imagine what she was saying…

“And you finally figured that out – amazing. Yes, we’ve been living together for a couple of months now too, since I had to move out of the temporary housing the city had given me, but it wasn’t until the thing happened… yes a thing, a special thing, no that’ll probably be covered in the ZPD press release or sometime later. Trust me, it’ll all make sense”

There was an uncomfortable pause, Bonnie probably saying something.

“Love you too, bye” Judy said, ending the call.

The fact that Judy was smiling spoke volumes to Nick about how things had gone, though there was one thing he hadn’t quite figured out: “So… I’m guessing things went well?”

“Off all the things that have happened today, then I think that call went pretty much perfectly” Judy said, burrowing into Nick’s tail.

Lifting up his tail, depriving his snuggle-bun her plaything, Nick pressed the topic: “Right, but I didn’t hear anything about she’s supposed to handle it when the rest of your family hears about this”

Judy shot Nick a somewhat annoyed look, but it was one that quickly faded into a loving smile: “Nick, what my mother dabbled in during her pregnancies is a… what’s the word – like an open secret. Nobody talks about it, but everyone knows that Hopps does get weird pregnancy cravings”

“Fair enough – and I guess if city hall tells everyone that it’s because of the N2 then we’ll be back to work in no time” Nick mused, relaxing back onto the couch.

Judy splayed herself out on her stomach over Nick’s lap, stretching and enjoying the sensation of wiggling around over his groin: “I guess. We haven’t done anything wrong – Bogo said as much himself… we’re only suspended because we got caught doing something weird. Once its cleared up that it’s because the N2… nobody can really blame us for that”

“Yes it’s not like you’re some kind of degenerate who just loves to swallow hot loads of mammal matter that you had to get even more when I’d been drained the first time around” Nick quipped, stroking Judy along her ears.

With a laugh, Judy turned around to face Nick: “But what do all the blowjobs I give to Clawhauser then mean?” while making a decidedly silly face.

Looking down at Judy, Nick instantly opted to just run with the joke: “That depends fluff, does he cum donut frosting or just plain sausage gravy?”

Judy cracked up laughing, Nick joining in.

…that was when Judy’s phone rang – it was Bogo.

Forty minutes later in precinct one, in Bogo’s office, the duo met with their chief, a ZPD union rep wolf, two internal affairs agents – a horse and an old jaguar, and Jenna Smythe the PR manager of the ZPD.

The duo got the distinct impression that they had just marched up in front of their own firing squad, based on the immediate looks they got upon entering – and while fur made sweating bullets difficult to spot, then it was clear as day to see that Judy’s ears were all the way down, as was Nick’s tail.

The lack of seating for any of the mammals present revealed the fact that this was not a meeting meant to take long – if that had been the case they would probably have met in one of the meeting rooms.

“Officer Hopps and Officer Wilde. You are hereby informed that the Internal Affairs investigation into your case has been concluded, and you have both been exonerated of the charges of conduct unbecoming. Once the paperwork has been filed you’ll return to active duty. There’ll be an email when that happens” Bogo stated in an officious and firm, but also clearly pleased tone – if you knew what to listen for.

Having already expected reasonably good news, the duo wasn’t particularly surprised at the news, though Bogo’s vagueness on when they would be back in action did annoy Judy a bit: “Thank you sir – but uhm… when exactly will we back on duty then?”

Bogo looked to the two IA agents. The horse explained: “Shouldn’t be too long – Internal Affair’s filing is very secure, for obvious reasons, but that also makes it slow. I have submitted the report and your updated files for secure storage, but whether it gets processed tomorrow or sometime next week is out of my hooves”

“Amazing – say your chiefness, since our case is basically wrapped up and we’re good to go, is our suspension paid or unpaid?” Nick quickly asked, sensing a lull in the moment.

Bogo’s brows smushed together like two hippo sumo wrestlers colliding into each. A facial geologist might have feared a brow-quake, but the cape buffalo ultimately just replied: “Unpaid” in a tone that subtle communicate that his decision was not in any way up for debate.

This of course presumed on everyone in earshot were subtle – and judging from screamingly colourful floral patterns on Jenna’s dress, then that was one quality she didn’t really subscribe to: “Oh that won’t do… come on chief, not with the media tour looking to start before they’re back on active duty”

“I’m sorry, media tour?” Nick inquired before Bogo had turned to face the PR rep.

The tapir smiled, though with her tiny mouth at the end of her long snout it was a bit difficult to spot: “Why yes – you two won’t believe how many requests city hall has gotten for you two to appear for interviews and talk shows”

The duo shared a worried look. Judy knew full well that Nick had no interest in becoming famous, and Nick knew that Judy had little interest in taking another ride in the media rollercoaster – but they both knew that they probably weren’t getting much a choice…

“Hold on, we’re line officers – we’re not supposed to do interviews” Nick started out, knowing perfectly well that that rule only applied to officers who were in the field and on the job. Being suspended technically meant that they could, but he also knew that it was probably possible to use that rule as an excuse to keep the press away from them.

Bogo shook his head ever so slightly, while Jenna let out a chortle: “Oh heavens no – that won’t do. The video with Officer Hopps has already gone viral far beyond anything we can hope to contain or downplay. You two will have to do a few interviews no matter what, but with the right media strategy I am certain that we can use this to actually help the city”

Nick couldn’t help but notice that Judy wasn’t exactly looking at the tapir in a way that communicated trust, but he couldn’t help but feel just a little curious about what Jenna’s plan was: “So… what are you thinking?”

“You can talk with Jenna in meeting room two – the rest of us have work to do” Bogo interjected, cutting Jenna off before she could begin explaining her grand media strategy.

Leaving Bogo’s office, the duo and the tapir continued in meeting room two. The precinct one union rep did pop his head in quickly before anything got started, noting that he’d like to kept in the loop about what Nick and Judy ultimately agreed too: “I know we’re all in a tricky situation, but you two still have rights – don’t forget that”

With all that out of the way, Jenna explained her grand plan – which turned out to be rather simple, and somewhat crazy to boot: “…and with that much exposure we’ll be able to nip a lot of this in the bud”

“Right… but O’Chra? Why not ZNN or some other real news organization? She only hosts weirdos that other mammals laugh at” Judy asked, thoroughly confused at the tapir’s plan for the duo’s first media appearance.

Jenna, sipping a cup of coffee, looked pleased as punch: “Well that’s the thing – the viral video clearly shows that you were discovered eating meat as part of an attempt to murder you. ZNN and the other big news organizations, they’re not stupid: They know that you haven’t broken any laws, plus they’re probably waiting to hear what the IA investigation into you turns out. That won’t become public until they wrap that thing with your file up. They know that this is gossip of the lowest sort, even if it is really damn juicy, and anyone who touches this before we come forward will get blacklisted by city hall for the next five years from all official city press events…”

The duo looked at Jenna and marvelled at her ability to speak so fast, so nicely, and yet wrap it all up with a potentially news agency ruining threat.

“So O’Chra… when do they want us in? For next weeks show?” Nick wondered, looking a particularly sneaky sort of pensive.

Jenna pulled up an email on her phone and scrolled through it: “Yes – they’re ready to clear their scheduled program, but they’re recording tomorrow evening at seven, so they’ll need a response before five today”

“It’s four thirty” Judy quickly pointed out, sounding none too pleased at how the tapir was seemingly trying to railroad the duo.

Nick and Judy exchanged worried looks. Jenna, being no fool, quickly added: “Look, I know that O’Chra has a reputation for being a trashy talk show, but their ratings are amazing so you’ll be able to explain yourselves to the whole city. This is the fastest way we can end this and still come out on top”

“Right because I so want to be put on the same level as weirdo ardwarks who want to marry their body-pillows” Judy noted dourly.

The tapir made some strained motions with her claws, trying to shape her argument as she briefly wracked her mind to properly explain why her plan was so clever: “But this is different! O’Chra usually scours Zootopia for volatile weirdos like that to bring in, knowing that they’ll probably get into a fight or a screaming match. You two are different, but they probably don’t realize that”

“So… you think we can hustle them?” Nick wondered, nodding just a little too much for Judy’s comfort.

Jenna straightened up in her chair: “Exactly – they don’t know about how you got exposed to nighthowlers, they haven’t read your files. Plus, you can probably derail them entirely if you want to go public with your relationship during the show”

“I… cheeses… do you really think we can pull a fast one on them?” Judy wondered, recognizing that Nick seemed to in on the plan, leaving her to feel a bit left out.

The tapir looked at her phone, then at Judy: “I get your apprehension, but I have done my research on this. The contract they sent over for you to sign, it’s proof as far as I’m concerned that they simply haven’t had the time to do proper background research on you. If you want to appear on the show – you just have to sign and fax it and then they can’t afford to pull out either”

“They sent a contract?” Nick said quizzically.

One print-out later, the duo and the tapir were looking a the O’Chra contract. It was a basic NDA kind of contract, along with some liability waivers absolving the broadcast company that owned O’Chra from any liability in case the duo’s reputation or work suffered from appearing on the show.

“Honestly it’s a bit of a mishmash - they clearly stitched this together from two or three standard contracts. Look, they didn’t even match up the letterhead on these pages here – but it’s ok, it’s still valid” Jenna said cheerfully.

Taking a deep breath, Judy looked Nick. He nodded. She nodded: “Right… where do we sign?”

“Oh I’m sure I have a pen here somewhere…” Jenna said, pulling up her purse and rummaging around in it.

Nick snatched the contract and looked through it quickly: “No need for that – we’ll sign it up at our cubicles and have it faxed before fix, come on Judy”

Up in their cubicles, Nick quickly scanned one of the pages of the contract and opened up an editing program on his computer that definitely wasn’t standard for ZPD computers.

“Nick, what are you doing?”

Fiddling around with the computer mouse, Nick chuckled: “This isn’t the first contract like this I’ve seen – look at this clause here”

Judy skimmed the paragraphs, but the legalese was so incredibly arcane: “What am I looking at?”

“On this page – they make it sound like it’s a follow-up to the other stuff about liability, but it’s basically a clause stating that once we sign, if we then don’t show up to the recording, or if we run off during the shoot, then they can sue us for lost revenue – basically once we sign, we’re on the hook until the show is taped” Nick explained, Judy nodding slowly to communicate her comprehension.

Of course, what Judy was seeing was Nick changing the text… adding stuff: “Nick - forgery is illegal”

“Contract negotiation isn’t forgery. With negotiations like this you present a contract and then get feedback for revision” Nick said, sounding a bit too much like a hustler for Judy’s liking.

Nick finished typing up the paragraph he was adding: “It’s nothing grand – I just added a happy little clause that will give us some power in return”

Judy glared at Nick – briefly. She knew well enough that Nick wouldn’t be doing any of whatever he had just done simply out of spite or for shenanigans: “Ok, so what have you done?”

Nick printed out the altered page, comparing it to the original. The differences were difficult to spot. Judy had a go at trying to read it, but it was written in legalese that was at least twice as hard to read as the rest of the contract, but Nick was happy to explain things.

“…they would have to be insane to sign this” Judy said, shaking her head in disbelief.

Putting the contract documents back in order, with the one page switched out, Nick shrugged: “You are assuming that they will read all of this through – we’re just supposed to sign on every page, not read any of this”

“If they miss it… wont they be able to stop us from using it somehow?”

Putting his signature on the twenty-some documents, Nick could only smile: “No, those clauses are for if we run off during the shoot or fail to show up”

“And if they do spot it?”

“Then they’ll send us a new contract and tell us not to change it – can’t imagine they’ll cancel the show on us. We’re ratings gold right now”

No new contract was sent after the duo faxed their signed version. The next day, a lazy Saturday under any other circumstances, Nick and Judy got an email with an address for the studio they were to show up just after nine in the morning.

“I guess Vinewood never really sleeps – I mean… working on a Saturday, really?” Nick mused over the breakfast table.

Judy crunched down happily on her puffed locust bits: “It’s like theatres – I mean, they sell tickets for the show. I have some siblings who once said they wanted to save up and buy tickets for a show taping”

“Showbiz never sleeps, or something like – hey speaking of never sleeping, looks like your phone is up early” Nick noted with a yawn.

Judy didn’t really want to look at her phone. She had a pretty good idea of what it would be full of: Freaked out messages from her family, thousands of hate-mail messages from random strangers… she barely had to type in her password to unlock it before she could tell that having over six thousand text messages and fifteen thousand email messages waiting wasn’t a good sign. Uninstalling the Pecker app on her phone helped a lot.

Finishing breakfast, Nick looked long and hard at his phone – to the point that Judy had to ask why.

“I’m thinking… we need outside help”

“We can turn in my phone on Monday to cybercrimes, get them to sift through all the hate-mail to see if there’s anyone who needs to be arrested” Judy mused, looking at her phone dejectedly.

Nick flicked around on his phone, calling someone up: “Well that too – but I was thinking with predicting what they’ll try to throw at us in the show – I mean, on the show they like to provoke their guests with stuff. Like bring in some experts or someone else to taunt the freak of the week, right?”

Judy pondered the O’Chra shows she’d seen. The aardvark with the body-pillow had flown into a rage when some shrink-looking wrinkly goat had been brought on to the show who had talked down to him about the aardvark’s moral decadence and how it was a sign of society’s moral decay. The episode with the hyenas had involved a wolf from a family planning and counselling service of some sort who had called the hyena lady an unfit mother for sleeping around with so many guyenas, because she didn’t know who the father her future children was – the sheyena’s reaction was fairly predictable, and the O’Chra security bisons had been quick to break up the fight. Right, maybe getting some tips on how to predict and prepare for what the showrunners might do would be a good idea.

“Hey Finnick – you’re not going to… right, ya – you’ve seen the video. No we’re ok, but you’re not going to guess who wants to have us on to talk about it…” Nick said into his phone.

About an hour later a damp fennec showed up Nick’s place. He had apparently been in the middle of selling something in the rainforest district, and when he saw Judy the bunny couldn’t help but feel that the fennec looked at her differently. He was looking at her with a strange mix of admiration and disgust.

It was actually rather awkward, as the damp fennec stepped inside. He didn’t say anything at first, but he did look at with that odd mix of awe and suspicion in his eyes.

“What?” Judy ultimately asked, knowing damn well what the issue was, but feeling annoyed none the less that fennec was gawking at his.

Finnick looked up at Nick, shaking his head slowly in disbelief: “How did you do it?”

What followed was a quick show and tell, regaling Finnick about the raid at the guru’s resort, the drug lab, the nighthowler trap and the double-whammy drug exposure used to counter the nighthowlers and avoid Nick eating Judy alive.

“If it was anyone else I would have said you’re lying… but hot piss Nick, you didn’t just bag a bunny… wow” Finnick said, sounding thoroughly thrown for a loop.

Three cracked cold ones later Finnick finally began to come around to giving practical advice as they sat in the couch, an old O’Chra rerun on the TV.

“Alright, and they’re taping you tomorrow? Hmm… that rules out a lot of their usual call-in experts, but we don’t know who they had already booked, right” the fennec said, poking around on his phone in an attempt to look up something.

Judy frowned, looking intently at her beer. Getting into a proper mindset for the show was proving difficult for her – mainly because having to imaging herself at the receiving end of something she had previously laughed so much at was proving really hard to wrap her head around. The closest thing she could imagine for it was gearing up for an undercover sting: “Is there a common thread to what they usually do?”

“Come on, you’ve seen enough shows to figure that out… you’re the super-cop” Finnick replied, taking a sip of his beer.

Judy scowled briefly at the big-eared fox, then looked at the TV: “Well it’s all about keeping their guests off balance, make them angry, annoyed, and get them to start screaming and fighting”

“True – and to do that they usually come at you from two or three angles, switching around the topic to keep you riled up and confused. That’s one thing you can do to mess with them, stick to one topic at a time. Hell, call them on trying to change the topic or dodge stuff if it looks like you’re about to win an argument – but that’s why I’m thinking… the meat thing is obvious, but it’s a single topic, they’ll need more to nail you with” Finnick said, swishing his can around his can.

Nick, figuring that he had a couple of good ideas of what that could be, suggested: “Well, Judy is from out of town…”

“That’s weak-sauce Nick, and you know it – man you really lost you edge, haven’t you?” Finnick shot back without missing a beat.

It was strange for Judy to see Nick almost cower at the fennec’s retort. She had always considered Nick the ultimate wordsmith, but with Finnick he was really being challenged: “I figured they’d bring up my flub at the nighthowler press conference, considering how that almost upended the city… and then there’s me and Nick dating”

“True – but they haven’t exactly had much time to research you two. Hell, do they even know about the nighthowler stuff being why you’re dating and eating meat?” Finnick noted, obvious trying to compare the duo’s situation with the hundreds of other O’Chra shows he had seen, to figure out what the showrunners might try to pull.

Nick shook his head: “Nobody outside of the ZPD and the Mayor knows it – and that’s stayed a secret for almost six months, so I doubt we’ll get any leaks that way around. Even the PR lady we talked at work said that we should keep the N2 thing as a secret to spring on the show once they’ve played their hand”

“Right… that’ll mean they think you’re doing this just because you’re a freak, but if they want to show you being wrong for what you’re doing – and they’ll want to do that, trust me – then they have to find another way to explain why you did your thing, without you really having chosen it yourself” Finick said, sounding exceedingly sure of himself.

Judy frowned, finding the argument rather strange. Nick however, nodded: “Right – makes sense: Judy, if this just boiled down to you having chosen this, then the argument would just end there – and bickering over that doesn’t make for their kind of television. They need an excuse to morally grandstand, to pummel us… it would be too easy to shut them down just by saying ‘well I chose this’ and they know that”

It had never occurred to Judy that such a complicated level of analysis and planning could go into planning a talk show.

“They’ll probably want Dr. cranky-pants for that. They usually bring him in to explain how society corrupted whatever moron they have on – he’s really good at making people sound as if they have no idea what they’re saying. They had him on for that creepy ardwark” Finnick recalled, sounding a little too familiar with the show’s regular cast of characters.

Looking up the doctor, namely just going on Zoogle and searching “goat on O’chra” yielded a Wikipawdia article on the doctor in question… who wasn’t a doctor, to Finnick’s surprise: “Ok… he’s just a retired professor, but they always call him doctor on the show”

Nick was more surprised at the supposed goat’s appearance: “Finnick, what’s wrong with his face? He looks like he brushes his teeth and fur with an ugly stick”

“He’s a gulapi goat. They just look like that” Judy noted, looking at the wikipawdia article on her phone.

The article didn’t yield much, but talking for a few more hours, ordering some pizza, then talking some more, yielded a rough battle-plan and some solid talking points that the duo could use to defend against most of the things they could imagine that they would be attacked on.

“Right, now the most important thing to keep in mind is... what?” Finnick said, looking at Nick in a way that reminded the fox of the good old days when they would rehearse for a good hustle.

Clearing his throat, Nick replied with a smile: “That they have to show that we’re in the wrong – and tha-“

“Oh come on Nick, you really have lost your edge – Judy?” Finnick said, jumping up on the table and giving Nick a whack over the nose.

Judy chuckled: “Never let them see that they get to you”

“See, she remembers – come on Nick, where is your hustle man?” the fennec implored, like a coach yelling at a hoofball player before a big game.


	11. Dinner Theatre

“Is everything ready?”

“Oh yes – everything came through just fine”

“Is ZNN still dragging its feet on this?”

“They all are – they know its juicy gossip, but there’s enough violence from the anti-fang morons that they can fill their news cycles with coverage of whatever the latest assault on some predator. If it bleeds it leads”

“Great. We’ve done this too well! Still, it doesn’t matter – has Bogo been notified?”

“Oh yes. He thinks this will be just Hopps and Wilde’s treatment”

“If we don’t move fast it will be – has the change in protest applications been acted on?”

“Yes – and Bogo’s replacement has his marching orders”

“Really? And who does he think he’s getting orders from?”

“Does it matter? Certainly not us. Once this wraps up he’ll be just another sacrificial lamb to throw away”

“Right – oh and when will the O’Chra show air?”

“Sometime next week – but why wait? I can get you a live feed while they’re recording it”

“Shit. I’ll have to clear my schedule for this”

…

Arriving at the main gate into Vinewood was just a little awkward. The guard had looked at Judy with such confusion… though the newspaper stand down the road from the gate was full tabloid papers with Judy’s face on the frontpage, saying all kinds of crazy things about her meat eating – having spun things entirely out of proportions, as tabloids tended to do.

At the studio, Nick and Judy were welcomed into a green room – a lounge where show guests were to sit and wait before being called to the set. There were sodas, coffee, water, carrot-juice, a wide assortment of vegetable snacks – no meat snacks though.

“Ok, so the mind-games start in here…” Nick noted, looking at the array of snacks and drinks available.

Judy frowned: “I don’t even like that brand of carrot juice – it’s too thin and tastes artificial”

“And I’ll bet that they have hidden cameras in here. If you eat anything they’ll take that and rub it in your face, saying that it’s a sign of remorse against meat eating… and if you don’t, it’ll be proof that you’re a freak who doesn’t eat veg anymore” Nick mused quietly, pouring himself some water.

Judy’s frowning intensified, and a desire for bacon bubbled up in her belly: “Well like Finnick said – then let’s not give them what they want – and give them nothing they can use”

Elsewhere, in a control booth, an okapi doe tapped an inpatient hoof at a monitor: “Come on – do something!”

“Sorry ma’am, so far only the fox has eaten any of the snacks or drinks” one of about five dozen small rodent technicians noted meekly.

The okapi let out a particularly annoyed grunt: “Just keep me updated if they do anything we can use while out there… we have ten minutes until the cameras roll”

A short while later the cameras began to roll. In the green room there was a monitor showing the various camera feeds, along with a quiet speaker, so the mammals waiting to come on to the stage could keep track of the actions.

At first there were some quick sound test, and a rather skinny bull with a microphone headset came out to inform the audience that cell-phone jammers were in effect, and that everyone would get their phones back once the show was taped – along with a ‘polite’ reminder of the NDA they had all signed to be part of the audience. It was all basic run-of-the-mill Vinewood talk for a show that would first air the next week, but once he was done he quite enthusiastically encouraged everyone to raise the roof for the one, the only…

O’Chra boldly strode out on the stage, the audience cheering wildly at the stunning okapi in her bright blue dress: “Hello Zootopia – do we have a show for you tonight! With everyone talking about meat these days, a very dramatic event took place last week…” followed by a pause for audience reactions, and a half second wait for the “gasp” sign to stop blinking. Taking on a serious stance, her hoofy digits gesturing sympathetically, she continued: “…yes indeed, you see last week a ZPD officer was caught on camera eating meat” 

Again O’Chra paused for audience reactions, chiefly a lot of huffing and some scattered booing – the purely prey audience had trained and prepped well, as was usual.

In the green room Judy shot Nick a confused glance: “Last week? It was last Thursday – three days ago”

“True – but they’re taping this for airing next week. When this airs next Wednesday, it’ll fit” Nick noted, munching on some celery sticks.

Back on stage, O’Chra had continued: “…right? No, the kicker here was that the officer in question was a certain bunny officer, ZPD’s only rabbit officer”

The audience exploded in gasps, shocked outcries and a wide variety of noises and sounds as everyone seemed to freak out. Prey eating meat? What kind of madness was this!?

“I know – I was quite shocked too, but here’s the deal: We all know the score with Pro-Tech, and how problematic things are with them and all that meat business, so tonight I’ve got that very officer and her partner in crime-busting in here so we can have a nice sit-down and talk about things, try to hash things out” O’Chra said, using her nice and comforting narrator voice while making a kind sympathetic and kind gesture towards the couches where they would all be sitting.

The audience calmed down as the okapi spoke, their boos and angry noises gradually fading into curiosity and anticipation.

With a confident yet kind smile, knowing full well that she had her audience fully under control, O’Chra continued: “Awesome – and we’ve got a big slate of friends and experts lined up to come in and explain things, so let’s see if we can’t talk some sense into these two wayward police officers! Everyone, let’s hear it for Officer Judy Hopps and Officer Nick Wilde!”

In the green room Nick and Judy had found O’Chra’s introduction a lot less riveting than the audience had – though they had found it very informative. A stage-hoof had popped in during O’Chra talking, saying “You’re on in thirty, please come with me”, guiding them to the state.

The duo followed the chubby beaver girl, trying to ignore the dirty looks from the various other staffers as they passed them by, though they were hard to not notice. It was obvious that the whole place was set against them. Oh this was bound to be fun. The beaver put lapel microphones on both of them and ran quick sound checks.

Stepping into the bright lights aimed at the stage, the duo emerged to loud boos and hisses from the audience. Of course, being police-officers they were both used to having upset perps yell at them, so they just ignored it, focusing on the okapi at the couch beckoning them to come sit down.

Handshakes were exchanged, polite introductions were quickly done – smiling to the camera. Both Nick and Judy would have been forced to lie if at that point they were to say that they weren’t a bit overwhelmed. The stage was huge, the audience massive, and their host O’Chra the okapi was almost three times the size of Nick.

“Welcome officers – oh, I see you’re in casual, not your uniforms?” O’Chra said, noting that the duo were still in their jackets.

Nick and Judy exchanged smirks and took off their jackets.

One would have been able to hear a pin drop.

It had taken no small amount of leg-work to pull it off on such short notice, but thanks to the mammals that Nick had known from his hustling days, the duo had been able to buy a pair of custom print T-shirts. One fox sized, one bunny sized, both with bold lettering spelling out “Bacon buddies” on it.

The look on the okapi’s face was priceless: “Well that is certainly a bold fashion statement”

“It was my idea – figured we’d spread the good message” Judy beamed, smiling at the okapi – and trying desperately not to laugh.

Sure, once the audience got out of the shocked stupor the howls of outrage and disgust began – but O’Chra was quick to attempt to calm them down: “Now now – we’re here to talk about this”

The duo nodded, awaiting an actual question. They both knew that they didn’t want to reveal the ‘official’ origins of Judy’s meat habit just yet.

“So, Officer Hopps – can I call you Judy? Right, Judy, how do you feel about all this? I mean, this is the second time your actions have brought Zootopia on the brink of ruin” O’Chra opened with, once the audience had quieted down a bit.

Thus it began.

Judy smiled at the okapi, O’Chra’s long dress revealing only her dark-furred head, hooves and stripped legs: “Oh now that’s not really fair to say. I haven’t done anything illegal, and if you’re referring to that press conference that effectively kicked off Bellwether’s regime, then I had only been on the force for less four days and had received no formal training in addressing the public back then”

“Perhaps, but you said that all predators had a biological reason for going savage – the fear and outrage you sparked nearly tore the city apart, and now you seem to have done it again – don’t you at least feel bad about that?” O’Chra said, framing everything as Judy’s fault.

This argument had been one of many that Nick, Judy and Finnick had prepared for, so Judy had a very good idea of what exactly to say in return: “First of all O’Chra, I don’t know if you’re watched the news for the last month, but Zootopia was already at the boiling point before I was caught snacking on the job – so trying to blame me for all of that is really disingenuous”

“Oh you know what I mean – come on, as a police officer you’re supposed to be held to a higher standard than everyone else. Sure, a lot of mammals are already on edge, but then you show off eating meat on the grounds of ZU, where there have been a lot of fights over this already. All I’m asking is that you take responsibility for making things worse – the polls on public confidence in the ZPD haven’t exactly benefitted from your stunt” O’Chra said, the subtle venom in her voice flowing smoothly, the audience drinking it all up.

While the audience didn’t all instantly begin to boo or jeer at the duo, then both Nick and Judy were keenly reminded that it wasn’t O’Chra they had to convince of anything as a few jeers from the other side of the cameras flew their way – it was the audience they had to sell this to.

Judy gave the okapi a single raised eyebrow, trying her hardest to keep her feet from betraying her annoyance: “I’m sorry – showing off eating meat? Are we talking about the same attempted murder here?”

Now that was a wonderful little bomb to drop, curtesy of Finnick’s imagination. O’Chra’s reaction was quite interesting for the duo to observe. Like interviewing a criminal where it was all about teasing and tricking them into spilling the beans, then it was obvious that O’Chra wasn’t particularly used to guests who could play her game back at her. Or maybe she was just pretending? Nick hadn’t seen that many O’Chra shows, and ultimately neither had Judy.

The okapi gave Judy a curious and worried look, one that looked a little too well rehearsed: “Wait, attempted murder?”

For the second time in less than five minutes the entire studio became deadly quiet.

“I’m just going to assume that you’ve seen the viral video with Judy and her mouth full of bacon from the other day, right? The full video one-and-a-half-minute video? The one that showed that it was a group of violent students who wanted to bash her head in with a rock because she’d busted one of them for theft and vandalism earlier, and they were recording it just for kicks, but they missed and just got a good look of her snacking instead?” Nick followed up, sensing a good moment to chime in.

Displaying a remarkable stern character, O’Chra didn’t miss a beat: “Yes I’ve seen it – as I assume that everyone else has – but that doesn’t change the fact that you, a bunny and a police officer, was caught eating meat on a public university campus”

“Would you be saying that if it had been me who’d been munching on a stick of bacon in that video?” Nick inquired.

O’Chra shot nick a look as if he had just taken a shit on the little coffee table before them, albeit subtly: “Preds eat meat all the time – the issue is when a trusted officer of the law, who is looked up to by thousands turn out to be a dietary turncoat”

“Hold on – dietary turncoat? I haven’t broken any laws. Or are you saying that preds who eat meat can’t also be trusted police officers?” Judy said, sounding just a tinge insulted in her hurry to reply 

For a brief second the okapi doe hesitated. Nick and Judy recognized that kind of hesitation from many an interview with various criminals – she was thinking up a new angle to what she was saying, which told them that they had successfully derailed what she had been going for at the moment, even if Finnick hadn’t quite liked that particular counter-accusation: “No, but like I said that is expected. As an officer of the law you’re held to a higher standard. You can’t just do all the things that normal mammals do – you’re supposed to be a shining example to all bunnies in Zootopia, for all prey! – it’s… what’s the word, ‘conduct unbecoming’ of a police officer. Now instead we’ve seen you doing something that struck terror into the hearts of mammals across the city. Your behaviour makes mammals doubt if they can trust the ZPD to be on their side when the chips are down!”

Nodding, because what O’Chra had said wasn’t exactly wrong, Judy mulled over her response for a second or two: “Exactly what sides are you talking about? Because I’m still prey, I’m still a bunny, and Internal Affairs cleared us yesterday – we’re just waiting for the paperwork to clear so we can go back to work”

While Nick and Judy couldn’t hear the communication going on between the show producer in the control room and O’chra’s ear-mike, then it was obvious that the okapi was spending a second or two just listening: “Right – we’re cutting to an ad-break”

Quickly exchanging pleased looks with each other, the duo couldn’t help but notice O’Chra stomping off the stage looking rather annoyed. 

Suddenly the chubby beaver girl stage-hoof came running over to the two, looking really pissed: “The hell kind of game are you two playing?”

“No game – we’re just here to clear our names” Nick replied casually, taking a sip of water.

The beaver shot Nick a look so dirty it make Judy’s ear curl: “Oh shut up. You’re only here because you corrupted the shining star of the ZPD – that you’re even allowed on stage without a muzzle on is a miracle”

Nick merely shook his head at the beaver as she caught her breath. She then continued her rant, now aimed at Judy: “And you… cheeses… you’re supposed to be apologizing, not doubling down! Do you want to set this city on fire!? I thought you said you didn’t want to repeat what happened two years ago!?”

Not quite biting her lip, but none the less steeling herself, Judy locked eyes with the beaver girl: “Tell me what law I broke. There have been riots here in Zootopia ever since the Pro-Tech plant opened, long before I was spotted snacking, and I’ve been eating meat a long time before that – and I’m going to have to ask that you talk nicer to my partner”

Clenching her fista, the beaver girl stomped off angrily.

“Ok fluff, I’ll give you points for composure – but you gave her a lot more information than you should have” Nick calmly noted.

Judy thought about what she had just said for a moment, then sighed: “Right… they didn’t know when I had started eating meat – but they can’t pin that on any specific starting point”

“True – oh and mind what you say here. Our mikes are probably still on” Nick said, tapping his lapel mike twice quite hard.

Somewhere else in the studio a technician listening in winced, twice.

“So, Nick – what do think they’ll do next? More talking?” Judy wondered, looking at the audience where many a mammal were taking the opportunity to get drinks at the strategically placed Snarlbucks next to the stage, or hit the john.

Nick shrugged: “You’d know that better than me – but I think they’ll bring someone or something in. An expert, maybe someone from your family – one of the harpies maybe? I don’t think they’ll bother talking much more right now, not until they have more dirt to dig at”

Elsewhere in the studio, various mammals discussed what had happened so far, along with the audio feed from Nick and Judy’s mikes: “Who the hell prepped them so well? The fuck is city hall trying to pull here? I thought they had agreed to hang them out to dry?”

“Jim calm down – they’re cops, good ones too, not some basement-dwelling creep who hasn’t seen sunlight in six months. Is Springer ready?” 

“He is – showed up with a big suitcase full of crap…”

“Oh that’s great – make sure he gets whatever he needs with him when he comes on stage. And call city hall, I know its Saturday, but I don’t want to be their patsy if they actually want to piss the city off even more with this”

“I’ll get on it – but he’ll need some prep time, can we swap him in for number two?”

“I think so – tell the chef to heat his dishes”

Back on the stage, a hidden PA system alerted everyone – mainly the audience – that it was sixty seconds to cameras again. Dozens of mammals hurried back to their seats, though it was obvious for the duo that not all the audience members were in equally much of a hurry.

“What happens if the cameras come on and they’re not back?” Judy wondered.

Nick looked at the various mammals heading back to their seats: “Nothing – the mikes only pick up what’s happening up here, so they can shuffle around as much as they want. At worst they’ll miss out on something we say and have to wait for it until the show airs next week”

“Right… showbiz waits for nobody” Judy mused, thinking that it sounded appropriate, though she could see that Nick was looking for something. Was he recognizing someone? Had Finnick snuck in?

The lights came back on, then the sound, then O’Chra came back and sad down exactly as before.

“Right – so Judy, I have to know: How did you start eating meat?” the okapi said, sounding genuinely curious for once.

Judy smirked, and recalled the discussions she, Nick and Finnick had had on whether to tell about their dual nighthowler exposure. Ultimately they had agreed that if they didn’t tell it first, someone else somewhere would probably leak it to the press, so getting out on top about it was probably for the best, but Finnick had pointed out that once that bomb was dropped then the show was basically over – because as Nick and Judy had already agreed, then once that secret was out there wasn’t really any reason to punk the duo anymore.

“Do I know why I started eating meat? Yes, of course I do – but it’s not something I’m comfortable telling, and that’s that” Judy said firmly.

Nick nodded, putting a reassuring paw on Judy’s shoulder. O’Chra frowned ever so briefly – she had obviously hoped for something a little more juicy, but at the same time this made it clear to her and the show staff backstage that there was probably juicy to the origins of Judy’s meat habit.

“Interesting, well tell me, would you give me the chance try to convert you back to veggies?” O’Chra said, sounding almost sultry.

While the duo and Finnick had considered that O’Chra might spring some food on them, then the okapi’s exact wording still surprised Judy: “Convert? What? I still eat vegetables too”

“Well in that case it should be all the easier to get you to kick the habit” O’Chra said, getting up: “so every, give a big cheer for everyone’s favorite TV-Chef, Gordon Reference!”

A soundbite from the TV-chef’s show’s theme played, and the lights focused on the left side of the stage as a large wheeled kitchen setup rolled in, followed by a fairly tall and fit – for a ram – sheep strode in, his wool trimmed and his chef’s garb impeccable.

“Cheese and crackers Nick, it’s… wow” Judy said, her eyes nearly popping out of her head.

Nick had to do a double take, never in his life having imagined that he’d ever get a shot at tasting something made by the master chef himself.

O’Chra walked up and gave the TV-chef a big friendly hug: “Gordon, sweetie – do I have a challenge for you”

“I hope it’s not another mammal who just can’t cook – I’m not the friendliest of teacher” Gordon replied, the audience laughing at the reference to his frequent shouting and swearing at his apprentices on his cooking shows.

The okapi shot Judy a cheeki smirk, then waved the duo up to the stage kitchen: “I’ve got a bunny who eats meat and her fox of a partner who I suspect is a bit of an enabler here… and I need you to show her the glory of veggies”

It was all obviously staged, with the food ready already, but boy howdy did it smell good. As the duo approached, they were hit with a brick wall of mouth-watering scents, even more so as they got up on the strategically placed foot stools that put all of them on roughly the same eye-level as the ram, with O’Chra towering over all of them.

“Oh really?” the ram said, looking over at Judy. His horns were polished and buffed, looking every bit as imposing as in his TV-adverts.

Taking a swift breath and then forcing herself to calm down, Judy looked back at the ram: “Indeed, but I’ve faced down bigger drug dealers – so if you think you can get me off my meat hook…”

The ram frowned, leaning in towards Judy: “Oh so I’m a drug dealer now?”

O’Chra took a step back, supressing a big old smile. This was exactly the kind of back and forth she had wanted – this was ratings gold.

“Well you’re obviously peddling something horribly addictive up here – we might just have to confiscate it all and have it checked out back at the precinct lunch room” Nick joked, picking up on the joke he had figured that Judy had opened up to.

With a hearty laugh, the master chef smacked the stone table-top: “Well now – if you want my recipes you’ll have to buy my latest cook-book… but if you’re eager for a taste, then it sounds like my job here is already one”

“Oh I wouldn’t say that – this does smell really good… but once you go meat, it just can’t be beat” Judy said, trying to sound clever, but the ram’s glare made her feel barely two inches tall.

With a trained and confident set of motions, Chef Reference whipped out a dish that he grated a block of something orange on top. Presenting the dish before Judy, he boldly stated: “You say that, but try saying it again after you’ve tried this”

It looked like a boiled carrot with slightly darker orange sprinkles on it. It smelled really good though, and upon poking it with a fork the bunny found that the ‘carrot’ did not behave at all like a boiled carrot – more like a carefully decorated cake wrapped in orange and textured marzipan.

Taking a bite left Judy stunned, simply looking at her fork in disbelief.

“Ok chef, what did you just feed my partner?” Nick said, curious as all hell at what had just turned his partner into a mute fork-looker.

Looking pleased as punch, the ram victoriously proclaimed: “What you partner just ate is an extreme rich chilled carrot-core foam, infused with carrot leaf extracts and lightly fried in a carrot butter concentrate, coated in a marzipan made with fruit sugars extracted from carrots, sprinkled with a solid-reduced carrot stock. Over six thousand carrots went into making it”

“Ok all I just heard was you saying carrot a bunch of times…” Nick professed, looking much less curious but a bit confused.

Giving Judy a tentative poke, Nick tried to elicit a reaction: “Hey fluff, you still in there?”

“This is the most carroty thing I’ve ever tasted” Judy whispered, her knees weak and her arms heavy. Elsewhere her mother was cooking spaghetti.

Nick smiled, his partner back in action again, but when she pushed the plate with the luxurious carrot cake over to him he didn’t hesitate for a moment: “Oh ya… wow… this is good”

“Of course, it is – I don’t just do this for fun you know” Chef Reference noted with no small amount of pride.

Judy looked at Nick, smiling at seeing him relish the same amazing carrot cake, but then she turned to the master chef: “Right, but this isn’t going to make stop eating meat – I already told O’Chra: I eat both meat and veg, and I don’t see anything wrong with that”

With a measured but inquisitive gaze, the master chef beheld the bunny next to him: “Really, and what makes you say that?”

“Because despite how amazing your cake is, then I’ve yet to see any kind of vegetable or fruit that can match what bacon can taste or feel like” Judy mused, looking at the now empty plate next to her with a twinge of longing.

Looking across his stage kitchen, with its wide variety of greens and veg on display, the chef mused: “I can’t say that I’ve tried that”

“Gordon – you’re a sheep, you don’t eat meat” O’Chra cut in, looking theatrically shocked.

The chef casually shrugged: “Darling, I am a chef – you wouldn’t expect me to serve anything I haven’t at least tasted. I once served up a marinated walrus to a party of polar bears in tundra town – can’t say I enjoyed the flavour myself, but I understood what they liked and so I adjusted the taste of the meat accordingly. It’s called being a professional”

“Well tell you what Gordon, we can change that pretty quickly – here” Judy said, retrieving half a stick of bacon from a pocket and placing it on the empty plate next to her, and then sliding the plate over to the master chef who – along with O’Chra – looked as if Judy had just put a dead body up on the kitchen counter.

“Commercial break!” the PA system blared out half a second later.


	12. Distasteful Discourse

“Enjoying the show so far?”

“I had no idea there’d be this many breaks in their recording…”

“Haven’t you ever been to a live taping of anything? I know you’ve been on at least half a dozen morning talk shows”

“Yes, as a guest – I’d show up, chat, then I would leave. I have a busy schedule and a lot of mammals to work with”

“Oh just shus and watch. I still can’t believe the two weren’t checked for meat when they showed up… I think the ram is going to barf”

… 

The master chef and the television host both looked at the half stick of bacon that Judy had presented with disbelief and a notable twinge of revulsion.

O’Chra appeared utterly shocked – but with the cameras not rolling any more, then it was difficult to tell if it was a genuine reaction, or just playing up for the audience.

With a frown the chef pushed the plate away from himself: “Who did you have to kill to get this?”

“You have heard of Pro-Tech right? – nobody died to make this” Judy protested.

Grasping a wooden spoon and waving it at Judy in a very accusing fashion, the chef retorted: “Don’t lie to me rabbit. Pro-Tech doesn’t sell meat like that! I’ve seen their product catalogue - Now tell me where you got this!”

“Bacon is made from smoked thinly sliced fried pork – they sell pork, try again” Judy said, returning fire with a look just as non-plus’d as that of the chef, though notably less disgusted.

Slamming his fist on the kitchen counter, the chef bleated: “No, because I know what Pro-Tech is charging for meat like that! Two police officers can’t possibly afford that, never mind the waiting list for orders!”

“Right, you got us” Nick said, throwing his hands up and butting in between the chef and Judy.

The chef looked at Nick in a way that very much silently communicated a “What is this fox talking about?” sentiment.

“We know the guy who taught the Pro-Tech mammals to make meat. We got it from him, he makes it in his on lab – not very much at a time mind you, but he shares it with his friends” Nick explained. 

The ram nodded and slid the plate back to him: “You’re talking about Professor Mulberry, that greasy old creep, aren’t you?”

“Guilty as charged – we’ve worked with him on a case about nighthowlers” Nick noted, hoping dearly that the good professor didn’t mind being namedropped.

Picking up the half stick of bacon and giving it a sniff, the chef looked at it with an intense and scrutinizing gaze. O’Chra looked horrified: “Gordon, no – that’s prey meat”

“Darling I already told you, I am a chef – a professional – if I refused to cook anything I don’t like I’d be out of business. I’ve served plenty of predators, and this isn’t the first place I’ve heard talk of ‘bacon’ – and until thirty seconds ago then I wasn’t sure that it was ethically sourced” the ram stated dismissively.

Nick noticed to the word ‘ethically’ and followed up on that: “Oh so you think that Pro-Tech meat and meat made the same way is ok to eat?”

“Of course – I’ve even had a tour at their place. There’s nothing wrong with it… but I can fully sympathize with prey who think its abhorrent. I’ve had plenty of apprentices quit their job and change profession after visiting a Tundratown fish market or a chicken processing plant in Liskville, or after seeing exactly how bug protein ‘meat’ is made” the ram said, holding the half stick of bacon up to the stage light to see how the almost opaque slice of fried meat behaved and looked under intense illumination.

Looking out over the audience, despite the dim lighting on them, Judy couldn’t help but see the curious faces. A master of cooking saying such relatively kind – or at least neutral - things about meat, and printed meat especially, was sure to have an impact – and personally she was quite pleased to hear how the ram had shut O’Chra down twice now.

“Tell you what – I’ll you keep that bit of bacon if you give me the recipe to that carrot cake” Judy offered.

A tense moment with glances exchanged between O’Chra, the chef and Judy followed, with the okapi looking very displeased. The chef nodded: “Deal – do you have an email?”

Judy quickly produced a business card – the same card she’d give mammals she met while out on patrol in case they remembered something later she needed to know.

The stage kitchen was wheeled out and O’Chra returned to the seating arrangement, with the duo following suit.

“Well that was certainly interesting” O’Chra started, sounding ever so slightly less certain than previously on what to say, her forced smile speaking volumes about her current mood.

Nick smirked: “I don’t know – he’s a professional, just like we are. He knows there are plenty of mammals who’ll jump at the opportunity to try some bacon, and as a chef he’d be stupid to ignore an untapped market”

“Predators in Zootopia already have easy access to all kinds of meat – this is just making prey feel unsafe and threatened” O’Chra said, sounding all kinds of reasonable – or at least pretending to sound as such.

Judy put her paws together. This was one of the more obvious topics that Finnick had predicted: “O’Chra, until Pro-Tech showed up, predators had access to basically three kinds of meat: sea-food, bugs and poultry – and poultry is so expensive that only the richest predators can afford it, because of all the meats it costs the most to make and takes the longest to produce”

The okapi nodded, even if the look her eyes didn’t exactly beam with interest: “Go on”

“For prey it’s so different – we have all kinds of greens and veg to eat, and so much of it. My family’s farm alone produces enough veg to feed a hundred time more rabbits than live there. If you had to compare what preds have to eat, then it would be like saying all you could eat the rest of your life was rice, cabbage and maybe strawberries once or twice a year” Judy explained, sounding every bit as knowledgeable as she sounded certain.

The okapi pondered the limited diet comparison for a brief moment: “Oh come on… there’s a lot of different fish and bugs to eat”

“You do realize that pretty much all bugs are just ground down into a crunchy paste that’s then moulded into ‘meat bricks’, or fried whole to puff ‘em up for cereal? And while there is a lot of fish and crustaceans to eat, then if that’s all you have to eat it’ll still get samey after a few decades… if all I had to eat was carrots my entire life I’d probably get tired of them eventually too” Judy said, looking at the okapi as if begging for a snappy retort.

O’Chra looked at Judy, then at Nick, then back at Judy: “I guess that comes down to your point of view. Our next guest here is sure to have a lot to say about that”

Once again, the lights dimmed overall and lit up on the right side of the stage – and in came a goat, a gulapi goat. The music that came on had a very officious tone, and reminded Judy of her police academy graduation. The goat looked as if he was somewhere between eighty and farting dust, with a massive brow and his face hanging down around his chin. His two tiny horns were dwarfed by the large briefcase he was carrying, which seemed stuffed with papers.

“Doctor Springer, always good to meet you” O’Chra said, sounding genuinely happy see the old goat.

Accepting the hug as the okapi approached him, the goat slowly walked over in the ‘expert’ seat next to O’Chra, opposite to Nick and Judy.

“So, Doctor Springer, I hope you’re feeling up for a challenge” O’Chra said, looking on as the goat unpacked his briefcase and pulled out a lot of papers, folders and whatnot.

The goat looked over at Judy, then Nick, then back to O’Chra: “Well it’s obvious – we’re dealing with a case of peer pressure”

The duo exchanged not very impressed looks, before waiting for the goat to actually back up his argument.

With no replies or outraged retorts, the goat shrugged and dug through the files in his briefcase: “I’ve seen it dozens of times. In a tight-knit workplace with a high percentage of risk taking and situations where aggressive behaviour is required, our bunny here has obviously internalized the need to project strength by taking on the mannerisms of the biggest and strongest mammals she works with, up to and including adopting their eating habits”

It was this kind of argumentation Finnick had expected if Springer was brought on. Nick and Judy could see a lot of mammals nodding in the audience…

“Say doc, what exactly are you basing all that on?” Nick wondered, looking at all the papers the goat was shuffling around.

It was difficult to see if the goat was snubbing his nose at Nick, but the old scholar clearly didn’t like being questioned – not that it was in any way uncommon for O’Chra guests to take offense to what Springer would say, but that was usually in the form of angry shouts and whatnot. Finnick had explicitly instructed the duo not to take the goat’s bait.

At first the goat looked to O’Chra, who seemed curious as well about what Springer was basing his claims on – though probably for entirely different reasons – to which end Springer picked up and waved one of the folders from his suitcase at Nick: “Science of course – I have records of all kinds of studies in my notes here, feel free to take a look”

Accepting the folder, Nick began skimming through the papers. Judy looked at Nick with mild curiosity, but her attention was quickly pulled back to O’Chra and Springer as they began talking: “So, doctor, why exactly do you think that Judy began eating meat?”

“Well, first of all it makes perfect sense that she’d end up eating meat, considering her comparatively limited physical nature and her profession. Being a small mammal in a job typically performed by mammals several times her size, she clearly constructed a mental framework based on the social constructs and biological imperatives of her most potent and revered co-workers, emulating them in order to fit in better” Springer stated, sounding quite authoritative on the topic.

O’Chra clapped her hooves, ignoring Nick has he got off his couch seat and snuck over to look at the rest of Springer’s notes, occasionally looking stuff up on his phone. Ochra noted: “But doctor, Judy got into the ZPD via the former mayor’s Mammal Inclusion Initiative. Lots of other mammals have gotten jobs outside of what their species would usually gravitate towards.”

Springer shrugged: “Officer Hopps is just an example of how that can have unforeseen consequences. It’s a social paradigm shift – we shouldn’t be surprised if other mammals end up picking up new strange habits if this continues”

Turning back to Judy, O’Chra shot the bunny a curious look: “What do you think about this?”

“What I think about ‘this’ – you mean all of Springer’s baseless accusations?” Judy replied, her arms crossed.

Looking just a tad too earnest, not that anyone not on the stage would notice, O’Chra corrected Judy: “No Doctor Springer’s assertions are all firmly grounded in scientific studies, right?”

“Of course,” the goat chimed in.

Judy looked over at Nick, who seemed completely engrossed in whatever he was reading from Springer’s stacks of notes. What the hell? This was supposed to be a team effort…

“Whatever – Springer isn’t even a real doctor. I’ve seen him on here before, but I looked up his credentials. You’re a former sociology professor, but ZU revoked your tenure for academic fraud… you not even a clinician – so he has no training or experience in diagnosing mammals in anything” Judy said in a slightly raised voice, finding it difficult not to clench her fists.

O’Chra looked at the goat with a raised eyebrow. Springer huffed: “Oh please – of course she’s being defensive: This behavioural construct to achieve her dream of becoming a police officer is obviously quite stressful to maintain. Pointing out its existence is making Officer Hopps consciously aware of everything she’s sacrificed, something she clearly doesn’t want to consciously ponder. It’s for the same reason that she’s so far rejected the claims that her behaviour is making others uncomfortable, because cease doing so would risk bring the construct down”

It didn’t escape the okapi’s attention that Judy’s right foot fidgeted, so of course O’Chra inquired further: “Do you realize that you’re doing this? Or is your career more important than the well-beings of the mammals of Zootopia?”

“Nick?” Judy said through clenched teeth, but the fox was obviously busy reading stuff from Springer’s files.

The audience began to jeer – not quite booing, but more as if they were urging Judy on to confess somehow.

“No, it’s not true – and what exactly am I supposed to have sacrificed? I’m just as much bunny I was when I left Bunny-burrow for the police academy!” Judy said angrily, feeling thoroughly cornered.

O’Chra followed Judy’s angered statement over to Springer who quickly stated: “The particulars will of course vary, but we are here because you started eating meat – decidedly un-bunny-like behaviour. Being able to thusly lie to yourself then brings your personal integrity into question, which isn’t exactly improved by having you paired with a fox of all things”

Ok that was it. Judy could take being talked down to – even if it angered her, then she had prepared for it – but smearing Nick as part of it? No, that was it…

A paw on Judy’s left shoulder stopped her, just as the bunny was about to get up on her couch cushion and do something stupid. Looking over, Judy saw that Nick had that smile… that sneaky, foxy, hustler smile… to which end she slumped down into her seat and took a deep breath.

Knowing full well that the cameras were chiefly her two guests, O’Chra didn’t worry about her frown. Why did that fox have to stop the bunny – they were about to get the big climactic row! And it was even before their third expert… damnit.

“Springer – you’re jumping to an awful lot of conclusions here” Nick said, looking at the goat scholar.

The not-impressed look from the goat was all the reply Nick got.

“Ok, we can play it that way. Your notes here? I guess you bring the same notes to every show, because most of this is totally irrelevant to Judy’s situation – but I do think I found the references to what you’re basing your claims about Judy on… and boy are you off base” Nick continued, looking increasingly smarmy.

O’Chra – never one to shy away from a bit of extra drama, regardless of the source – shot Springer a curious raised eyebrow: “Doctor, what do say to this?”

“It’s obviously preposterous. Officer Wilde is clearly just trying to protect his partner and maintain and enable her delusions” Springer said, sounding rather offended that he even had to defend his statements at all.

Nick tapped his phone: “Oh really? Just like how you completely dodged the fact that Judy pointed out that you’re not a real doctor, or how you don’t actually have an academic background that would let you diagnose the minds and motives of other mammals?”

“You do realize that they jam phones here?” the goat replied, once more ignoring what was being said about his academic background. 

Nick looked at his phone, then back at Springer: “Not if you have a phone modified to operate on police bands. Commercial jammers aren’t allowed to block those– so I have been fact checking you and your notes, want to hear what I found?”

O’Chra’s eyes darted back and forth between Springer and the fox rather quickly. This was not how she had expected the two to counter Springer’s bullshit – and then there was the god damn reason for that phone jammer. Since when could cop phones dodge that?!

Springer didn’t say anything – but he did lean back, as if bracing himself to call Nick’s bluff with a muted but smug scowl.

“Ok, let’s see here: You said that Judy compromised her behaviour and started eating meat to fit into her work. Well, in your notes you have a reference to a single case-study by Schlemiel and Darvo from seventeen years ago, about a wolf who got a job with a construction company mainly staffed by jackals, and how that wolf started to behave different over time and faced ostracization from his own local wolf community. A single case-study about a single predator mammal? Really?” Nick said, his expression remaining locked in that ‘I have you now, and you can’t run away’ look that Judy had seen many times whenever Nick had figured out a mammal’s scheme.

Before Springer or O’Chra could get a word in edgewise, Nick continued: “And out of all your notes, you only seem to have a single reference to a study actually meant to prove that mammals are frightened by meat eaters: An almost thirty-year-old study looking at seventeen pregnant impalas, measuring how much they would start to sweat when flashed images of predators and predators eating. I found this one particularly hilarious, because when I looked up that study I found twelve of the thirteen papers and articles that actually cite that study. They turned out to be critiques pointing out that the jokers who made the study didn’t even entertain the idea of the pregnant ladies’ reactions might have been due to hunger cravings. I mean, the study didn’t even actually ask them if they felt scared by the pictures, they only drew their conclusions from the sweat data… from only thirty-some test subjects”

“Doctor Springer, is this true?” O’Chra asked. She might not have much more than an English degree, but she could recognize trouble for the credibility of her show in a heartbeat.

With an angry bleat, the goat pointed accusatorily at Nick: “No you listen here – I worked as a sociology professor for almost twenty years, I know everything I need to know to, to know that as a fox you’re by far the most likely root of Officer Hopps’ corrupted mindset”

“Springer, really? Falling back on ugly old stereotypes like that? Am I fox? Sure I am, but really you should know better… or maybe… maybe not? Because none of the studies you have refenced in your notes date from any point in time after you lost your job at ZU. You haven’t updated yourself on how the world works in almost twenty years…” Nick replied, feeling as if he was setting pretty on all kinds of moral high-ground.

O’Chra nodded, a voice in her ear telling her that the audience was looking mostly in favour of the fox: “Officer Wilde, do you have any other examples of Mr. Springer’s mistakes here?”

“I could – but it’s not really necessarily from the looks of things” Nick said, briefly smiling towards the studio audience before getting up.

Sauntering around the coffee table in from of the couch they were sitting around, Nick put the notes he had been reading through back into Springer’s suitcase: “Your sample sizes are tiny, your standard deviations are huge, and your conclusions are meaningless”

Snapping his suitcase closed, the goat simply got up and stomped off the stage, bleating angrily at a stage-hoof on his way out.

O’Chra sat stunned, Nick returning to his seat with a paw raised for a perfect high-five with Judy who looked ready to cry – but with tears of joy this time.

“You bunnies, so emotional” Nick mused as he sat down.

The uncomfortable silence that followed only lasted a second or two before the PA system announced a commercial break.

“The hell just happened?” O’Chra said out loud into her lapel mike, clearly not to Nick or Judy, but to her producer and the mammals at the other end of her ear-bud.

As the okapi stomped off to the backstage area, Judy gave Nick a heartfelt hug: “Thank you… I don’t know what I would have done”

“I’m sure we can set up a payment plan. I take cash, credit or carnal services” Nick quipped, earning himself a sore shoulder from Judy’s swift left hook.

The same stage-hoof who had previously run up to the duo and put them on blast for not playing ball appeared once more, but this time she only had a message: O’Chra needed to talk to them, backstage, and the beaver didn’t as much look angry at them as she looked frightened from whatever she had seen backstage.

It wasn’t all the way back in the green room, but the duo was met by a slightly frazzled O’Chra, who looked at the duo with a good deal less positive interest or enthusiasm than at the onset of the show: “Are you two going to run off our third guest too?”

“Depends, is he going to wilfully misinterpret some really outdated studies too?” Nick said, sounding far too pleased with himself.

O’Chra shot Nick a look that – to the duo’s surprise – wasn’t dirty or distasteful, but more akin to a look that spoke of respect: “Maybe – it’s all good for the ratings. Springer was getting boring anyway, this’ll make for a fun send-off for him”

“So who’s your third expert? Any special reason you’re asking about him?” Judy followed up, holding on to the fact that O’Chra had actually wanted to hear them out about whoever she had lined up next.

The okapi’s gaze darted between the two, then casually remarked: “Some capybara my interns found, real fire-brand about banning all meat or something”

Judy’s ears shot right up: “Nick, do you think…”

Nick was already nodding: “O’Chra, is her name Marie Reeds?”

O’Chra paused for a moment, the voices in her ear checking. After a few seconds she nodded: “Ya that’s her, why?”

“She’s wanted for all kinds of fun things – attempted kidnaping, conspiracy to murder… say, is she waiting in the green room?” Judy said, patting around herself out of habit to see if she could some handcuffs or a dart-gun, neither of which were on her because she wasn’t in uniform.

The sudden change in the okapi’s expression clearly signalled that she hadn’t known that the capybara was wanted – let alone wanted for such serious offenses: “I… let me check. Doris, is the capybara still in the green room? Get a camera crew in there right fucking now!”

“Are you thinking an on-camera bust?” Nick said, looking rather amused at how willing O’Chra suddenly seemed to be at selling out her other guests.

O’Chra held a hoof up to her ear, nodding: “She’s there – do you two have…”

Nick and Judy presented badges and Nick a set of hand-cuffs.

“Say, O’Chra – you’re not worried that us doing this will make you a target for Marie’s anti-fang goons?” Judy said, just as she was about to turn towards the hall leading to the green room.

Nick perked an ear up, curious about the okapi’s reaction. O’Chra shrugged off the question quite casually: “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had idiots protesting my show. It’ll be more drama and better ratings”

With that settled the duo ran off to the green room… and were met by a camera crew that was splayed out on the floor, with very expensive looking and quite broken camera equipment all over the place. There was no capybara.

It took less than a split second of seeing the scene before Judy poked her head out of the green room again, screaming: “We need a doctor!”

Checking the vitals of the camera crew – and breathing a sigh of relief to see that they weren’t dead – Nick found himself not particularly surprised to learn that the O’Chra’s staff had some nurses on standby while taping shows.

Ambulances were called in, injured mammals shipped off, and O’Chra showed up looking quite shocked: “The fuck…”

Checking the footage in the camera hard-drives explained what had happened: Two mammals had come into the green room, one of them a certain chubby beaver girl, and warned Marie. The camera crew had tried to prevent the three from leaving by blocking the door out, but on a very obvious gesture from Marie the three had attacked and overpowered them.

“I swear… those two will never work in show-biz again!” O’Chra said, her voice quivering with outrage as she mangled the absolute shit out of a by now empty coffee cup.

Judy sighed: “Well, now we know how your staff was able to even get hold of her to come on the show… plus we can add assault to her list of charges”

“Did they have any kind of work stations? Anywhere we can search for contact information to track Marie down?” Nick added, having gone full police mode.

Being stage-hoofs the two hadn’t had anything like that. A list of the things they had worked on was produced, but it yielded nothing useful.

“Ma’am, the audience is getting antsy… are we pulling the plug?” a security bison suddenly asked, looking as if he’d gotten a prompt from someone else via the radio headset he was wearing.

The okapi looked at the duo, taking a heavy puff from her Camel cigarette: “That depends on you two – we need at least another hour of footage for the show, but this was all we had set up… you chased Springer away early and the bit with Gordon turned out to be a lot shorter than we’d planned after you bought him off with that stick of bacon”

Judy would have been lying if she had to say that seeing O’Chra being so upfront about everything wasn’t a bit strange, to which end she looked at Nick to get a read on what he was up for.

“Well if she’s being a good sport about all this… we could talk about what just happened here” Nick suggested casually, throwing the proverbial ball to Judy.

Looking at the monitor showing the last frame recorded by the camera before it was broken, Judy nodded: “I don’t see why not – just make sure to have raw copies of this and your hidden green room cameras ready when the real cops show up to take statements and collect evidence”

With a sigh of relief O’Chra made a few commanding gestures, ensuring that the ZPD were called in and the evidence was prepared, while the duo returned to the stage.

Once O’Chra returned she turned to the duo: “Right, we just need to get the audience up to speed, then we can continue. Control has the footage ready for your colleagues, and edited versions ready for the big screen in here”

“Oh don’t prep the audience… we can tell them ourselves, make it a big reveal” Nick suggested, his inner show-mammal eyeing an opportunity to appeal to O’Chra’s need for drama in the show.

The okapi nodded slowly: “Have you ever worked show-biz?”

“Have I worked in show-biz? No, no really – but I know how mammals work, makes being a cop a lot easier” Nick replied.

A group of gophers came in with small wheeled tables with refreshments, and they were gone when the lights came on.

“Alright everyone – sorry about the wait, we had a bit of an upset with our next expert” O’Chra began, turning to face the audience and the cameras trained on her.

A bit of show and tell later, which included some hastily but reasonably well cut-together footage from the green room and the assault, O’Chra seemed to have the audience charmed once again: “…and honestly, I had no idea she was wanted by the ZPD”

Turning to Nick and Judy, the okapi sat down again and asked: “So, what exactly was Marie wanted for to begin with?”

Nick looked at Judy who nodded: “Well O’Chra, we can’t really comment on on-going investigations, but its not that long ago that there was some trouble at ZU’s chemistry labs… you might have heard of it?”

“There was a big fight there last week, right?” the okapi said, nodding for Judy to continue.

Judy put down her coffee cup: “Oh it wasn’t just a big fight… you see, we have some fairly solid evidence – you know, students with camera phones – that Marie showed up one morning with some masked anti-fang goons and tried to kidnap Professor Mulberry, but his students fought them off”

“Mulberry… he’s connected with Pro-Tech right?” O’Chra noted, trying to keep the audience and her future viewers clued in.

Nick flicked an ear: “Pretty much – he taught their meat wizard how to wave his wand – and Marie came with masked goons claiming that he’d committed ‘crimes against prey’, seemed to want to haul him off to who knows where…”

“No way – why hasn’t her face been put on wanted posters all over the city?”

Looking at Judy, the bunny briefly acknowledged Nick passing that question to her: “That’s not something that’s up to us – but I would guess that it’s because we didn’t want her to go into hiding”

“I guess that cat is out of the bag now – sorry” O’Chra said, looking at least a little apologetic.

The audience was alive with murmurs – this was a lot to process for them, but O’Chra didn’t give them time to calm down before continuing: “So, assault and attempted kidnapping – that’s a lot for someone who claims to be a community activist. Any idea why she would do all this?”

“Honestly no… but even before the kidnaping she was wanted for questioning – she’s been heading a lot of anti Pro-Tech protests” Judy explained, trailing off as she tried to recall if here was anything else Marie had been wanted for.

Nick perked up: “To clarify: Every single anti Pro-Tech protest she’s headed up mysteriously turned into a riot – and a lot of poor mammals and small businesses in Happytown would like to give her the bill for damages from those riots, so the ZPD wanted to talk to her about how she managed her protests, but she’s been doing a great job of staying off our radar”

This was clearly not what O’Chra had been gunning for – but she wasn’t complaining: Someone was being trash-talked and the audience was getting a steady supply of shocks and surprises as the duo explained things. The technicians in the control room brought up some older ewetube videos from some of Marie’s previous protests at the canal district or tundratown fish markets, along with newer videos of her from the Pro-Tech protests: There was a clear change over time in her rhetoric – more direct calls for shutting things down, though she had apparently always used the chant “Meat is murder”

“Hmmm yes – protesting is one thing, but running around and trashing people’s things seems a tad extreme for someone who just doesn’t like predators eating meat” O’Chra commented, with pretty much everyone in the audience nodding along, despite being the complete lack of predators among them.

Judy wiped her ears back, momentarily not really sure what to do with her paws: “It’s like… I get that there are things that might scare or confuse you – but that doesn’t mean that it has to be made illegal or burned down. When I came to Zootopia two and half years ago it was the furthest I had ever been from Bunny burrow, next to the police academy… and wow, let me tell you, there were tons of things I suddenly had to get used to, things that freaked me out, frightened me… but I never ever felt that those things had to be made illegal, which is what Marie is basically calling for”

“Interesting – what kind of things freaked you out?” O’Chra inquired, pouring herself another cup of coffee.

Nick chuckled at Judy, but the bunny ignored him: “When I was working on the original nighthowler case I started out by tracking down a missing mammal – this was before we even knew that he had gone savage, since the mayor back then had been so good at catching them before the public really caught wind…”

Judy paused to take a breath, looking around at the okapi and the audience – everyone was waiting for her to tell the rest of her story: “Ok, so I go a lead that sent me to this ‘naturist’ club were mammals just lounged around without any clothes on… and that was on my second day on the job”

“Ah… yes I can imagine that a young bunny coming from Bunny burrow would find that a little challenging” O’Chra mused, scattered laughs, giggles and chuckles from the audience ringing out.

Gripping her seat, Judy felt the tips of her ears blush: “That and seeing a naked elephant, full frontal – as a tiny bunny, that was not something I ever thought I’d ever have to see”

Nick laughed, O’Chra laughed, even Judy chuckled along.

Once everyone was done giggling the okapi called for a commercial break. New refreshments were brought in.

“This was great – but I’m being told, we need at least twenty or twenty-five minutes more footage. Do you two have anything else we can talk about. I would hate have to cut an episode short” O’Chra suddenly said, the voices from her ear-bud having given her a tally of the useful footage so far.

Judy looked at Nick, who caught an inkling of what she was thinking via her expression: “Well she has been a good sport, I think she deserves the truth”

“The truth about what?” O’Chra curiously asked, leaning in towards the fox and the bunny.

With a smirk, Judy straightened up her ears: “Why about why I eat meat – but tell you what… I want you and the audience to guess first”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so much fun to write.


	13. Silver Tongues

“Was this what you had planned? To make them out as sympathetic and likable? What happened to daytime TV character assassination?”

“It’s not for a lack of trying – I have no idea how they even got the idea to pull that on the goat, but remember: We’re not here to pick sides, just stoke the fire… and this will work fine”

“You keep saying that, I’m getting less and less convinced”

“Stop being such a worry-wart. This outs Bogo’s dirty laundry, and that was ultimately what we wanted from this”

“So we’ll have our conclusion to all this next week?”

“Once this airs, yes. Even with Marie fucking up like that we’ll get what we wanted, though I think once this air public opinion will swing in favour of the meat-lovers”

“You sound almost disappointed that we’ll end up maintaining the status quo”

“Oh shush – they’re about to start again – and the important thing is that we come out on top no matter what”

…

The audience of stage three was abuzz with murmurs and small-talk. Judy’s challenge to them, to guess why she ate meat. Even O’Chra looked pensive as she quickly asked: “And you’re certain that nothing Springer said was anywhere close to the truth?”

“Absolutely” Judy replied, leaning back into the couch that was obviously made for mammals a few tiers larger than her.

Nick fought back a chuckle, which made O’Chra zero in on him: “And you, you know the truth about this too right?”

“Do I know why Judy eats meat? Yes, yes I do” Nick stated firmly.

The technicians in the control room quickly whipped together a little cavalcade of press footage of Judy along with some generic game-show ‘time to guess’ music, showing it on the big stage screen while people thought about the searing enigma.

“Alright, time’s up – let’s hear some guesses!” Judy said as the video and picture reel looped back on itself.

With a few commanding gestures, O’Chra ordered microphones passed around the audience. Moments later the guesses rolled in: “Because she wanted to try everything?” “Because she likes the taste?” “Because she hit her head at some point” “Because she’s a freak” and many others – some were unkind, some were curious, none of them got it right.

“Sorry, but none of you got it right… what about you O’Chra? Want to try?” Judy said, feeling surprisingly good about being in the spotlight.

The okapi frowned for a moment, scratching her chin: “Hmmm…” all the while the voices in her ear-bud gave her the latest update to their best guesses.

“I’m thinking it has something to do with your work… but maybe not intentionally…” O’Chra said, figuring that staying vague was probably the best way to hedge her bets.

Judy nodded, albeit slowly – knowing that while the truth didn’t match the guess, then the lie she and Nick had agreed on did match it quite well: “That’s not entirely wrong” but then she looked at Nick: “You want to tell it? You’re the better storyteller here”

The cameras zoomed in on Nick who graciously accepted the task: “Sure thing fluff”

And so Nick retold the story of how just after having joined the force, and having been partnered with Judy, they had worked the N2 case. O’Chra recalled having heard of it, but noted that it had pretty much completely fallen off the map.

“That would be because nobody can grow it safely anymore – you need genetically engineered nighthowler plants, and the only mammals who know how to make them are either in jail or on ZPD payroll. The mammals buying N2 bulbs online are a lot more likely to get a normal nighthowler bulb and end up hurting the one they love once they eat it” Nick explained.

O’Chra recoiled at the dire description: “Whoa, isn’t there a way to tell regular nighthowler bulbs apart from the love-drug ones?”

“If you have a lab that run DNA tests, and if you know what differences to look for – but beyond that then smell, taste, look… they’re exactly the same” Nick answered.

The audience murmured with hushed but worried voices, Judy spotting several mammals who looked unpleasantly surprised, as if they had just realized something.

Nick continued with the story of how they had tracked the drug growers down, omitting that it was in the basement of a love guru’s couple’s retreat, explaining once they got there it had turned out that the criminals had set up a trap.

“So there we were – me, Judy and a detective, weapons drawn, in a cloud of nighthowler vapor. We had to dart the detective, because he had gotten the bulk of the stuff on him so he was going savage a lot faster than we were, but then we found that we didn’t have time to reload our dart guns, so we couldn't dart ourselves…” Nick said, O’Chra and every mammal in the audience on the edge of their seat.

With dramatic gestures Nick alluded to retrieving some of the N2 pills they had found earlier during the raid, and then… very demonstratively acted out a chomp as if he ate one.

“Wait… so both of you got exposed to both regular and love-drug nighthowler at once?” the okapi said, looking almost bug-eyed in surprise and confusion.

Both Nick and Judy nodded, Judy following up: “and with nobody there to stop what happened next, we first woke up in a hospital… long after the N2 effect had kicked in and become permanent”

“So the two of you… wow… wait, how can you then still work together?” O’Chra wondered, spotting an inconsistency in what she had just been told.

Explaining the ‘deal’ that the duo had with Bogo about keeping their relationship quiet, combined with the loop-hole of it all technically being a condition inflicted in the line of duty, Nick seemed to wrangle the audience quite well – framing what him and Judy had gone through as a tough choice between death or drugs that neither of them really had wanted.

“And just to make this clear: We don’t really know if it was a bunny on nighthowler reaction that made me like this, or being hit with both drugs, or being a cop on top of it – there are no other mammals who’ve been through what I have to tell if it’s a normal reaction. So please don’t run off and do drugs just because we got lucky. We’ve seen more than enough mammals messed up from N2 use really badly” Judy added, making sure that nobody could go ‘me too’ without fair warning.

“What kind of negative effects from the drug have you seen? Falling in love sounds like a pretty sweet deal” O’Chra inquired – obviously asking into the nature of the drug.

Judy looked at Nick, who only nodded: “Right – well… the amount research on the drug is very limited…. Because we don’t really know how to reverse the effect of N2, but there have been cases of mammal abusing it to force other mammals to fall in love with them – and getting torn between two or more mammals they then love. Once had a prostitute who tried to get a john to fall in love with her, but he was married, and that ended in a very ugly murder-suicide by the john… because his mind was just ripped in two – that’s at least what his suicide note read. So seriously, don’t…”

“Ouch, I’ll keep that in mind” the okapi noted.

Nick made a calming gesture with his hands: “Relax. The few dealers that still try to grow and make N2 know that if they pollinate their plants with regular nighthowlers they’ll end up with bad drugs – and selling drugs that kill your costumers on the first go is really bad for business, so pretty much nobody wants to even risk making or selling it”

“Well that’s good to know – but still… a love-drug that actually works. Amazing” O’Chra noted, winking at audience a little too obviously.

Judy got up and jumped over on the coffee table in front of O’Chra: “No – don’t even think about it. We don’t know that it actually works. Me and Nick are the only recorded case of this, and we were exposed to both drugs under very unique circumstances – there’s no telling what might happen to other mammals who try to replicate it. Not even Professor Mulberry can get permission to do research on this, because nobody knows how to reverse the N2 effects yet”

O’Chra was about to say something when Nick interjected by snatching Judy up and putting her back down on her seat next to him: “Ya. Try to think how many fans you have, and what would happen if one of them decided that the two of you were absolutely going to be an item, and slipped something into your lunch…”

The look on the okapi’s face changed very quickly, as the romantic notion of a love potion turned into a much closer to home issue of personal autonomy: “Oh… right”

“We have it on fairly good authority that a lot of Vinewood celebrities got a lot more paranoid about their food when this drug hit the market – pretty sure they’re all happy that the ZPD has It all but quashed” Nick added.

Dire warnings and whatnot wrapped up, the three continued to chit chat a little until the voices in O’Chra’s ear notified her that it was time to end it.

“Ok folks, that’s all we had for this week – thank you all for watching, and a big thanks to our guests here with us today. There’ve been a lot of big surprises, with lots of food for thought. Let’s hope we can digest it all until next week, so tell them John who our next guest is” O’Chra said to a grand fanfare and near endless applause from the audience.

Back in the green room, which seemed to have been cleaned up rather well since Marie and her two buddies had assaulted the camera crew there, the duo briefly reflected on the show.

“I think it went well” Nick said, popping open a can of meatorade from the snack table.

Judy slumped into a couch: “Well… it went amazing… I mean, before you got under their goat I thought I was about to pop, but you… oh I’m just happy this is over”

“I think the words you’re looking for is ‘winner winner chicken dinner’ Judy”

“Hmm… wait Nick, that stuff costs a fortune – can we afford that?”

The fox cast a discerning gaze over the green room snack table: “I’ve been saving up – figured once the day came that you got outed as a meat-eater we could go to a nice normal restaurant for it”

Just as they were about to leave O’Chra came bounding at them: “Hey wait”

With a raised eyebrow from both of them, the duo turned to see what was up.

“I just wanted to thank you for being such good sports – you could have left in the middle of this… but you stuck around, even after what Springer tried to pull” the okapi said cheerfully.

Judy frowned and jumped up on a nearby table to get closer to O’Chra’s eye-height: “Don’t flatter yourself – he only did what he’d been hired to do, you know that”

“Hey, easy – it’s just for the ratings. Nobody got hurt” O’Chra said, taken aback by the sudden accusation, though she wasn’t in any way trying to deny it.

Her ears down, Judy adjusted her jacket: “But that’s just it – mammals are getting hurt. Ever since the Pro-Tech protests started, the ZPD has seen a rise in assaults on lone predators by groups of prey. From school-children to elderly, and it’s shows like yours where mammals are hearing lies and getting the idea that if they don’t attack first they’ll be lunch tomorrow”

The okapi took a step back: “Hey now, my show doesn’t do politics – we do drama”

“Oh please – that was not your attitude a couple of hours ago on stage. You’re too smart to tell bad lies like that. Look, a couple of weeks ago I spoke with a group of ZU students: One was studying to be a dentist so she could learn to de-fang all the predators, and another wanted to be some kind of social worker to help teach predators to stop eating meat…” Judy said with an un-impressed look.

Crossing her arms, O’Chra didn’t hide her disdain: “Whatever, and why should I care about a couple of anti-fang groupies?”

“Because they were under the illusion that once they graduate all predators would be ‘camps’ for them to re-educate and de-fang. You’ve been talking about meat in one way or the other in almost every episode the last month… you’re not helping, you’re making things worse, and seeing stuff like this on TV makes a lot of mammals think its legit” Judy said, jumping off the table and heading out the door.

Nick followed suit, leaving the okapi to think.

On their way out of Vinewood as the cool afternoon spring sun cast long shadows, past the huge front gates with the emerald green letters that spelled out the name of the place, the duo passed what turned out to be a group of small time reporters who were having trouble getting their credentials verified for entry.

“Hold on, a fox and a rabbit… isn’t that… holy shit!”

“Hey, you two – can I get a comment” A very eager looking and sounding hare said, holding up her camera-phone with its oversized microphone attachment.

The duo didn’t stop, but the hare kept up with them: “Come on – you got to have a comment on this”

“We don’t know who you are, and you clearly know something we don’t – so how about you either leave us alone or clue us in?” Nick commented into a very standoffish tone.

The hare stopped, bringing something up on her phone. A moment later she was back: “Here – Chief Bogo of ZPD’s precinct one has been relieved of his duties!” 

As delightfully sensationalist as that sounded, then that happening wasn’t actually that big a surprise to the duo – as they had been temporarily relieved of their duties when Judy had been discovered to eat meat, then they had both known quite well that Bogo had technically been in violation of a couple of ZPD rules because he had kept their secret a secret.

The lack of reaction from the duo perplexed the rabbit: “Oh come on – it’s your boss, he’s been fired because of you – you don’t have a comment on this?”

“You still haven’t said who you are and what you write for” Nick noted, skipping over a cracked sidewalk slab.

The sound of a fuzzy foot stamping the sidewalk signalled how annoyed the hare was. It also didn’t exactly speak well of her level of professionalism: “Ok, I’m Meredith Hilldigger. I write for Green-Leaf Media - we're an online news site, now about that comment?”

“Line officers don’t do interviews. You’ll have to talk to the ZPD PR liaison. Beyond that, no comment” Nick said, leaving the hare utterly stumped.

With the amateur journalist gone, the duo made their way home. Checking their work emails once home confirmed that Bogo had indeed been temporarily relieved of his duties pending an internal affairs investigation – just as expected.

“Well I’m sure he’ll enjoy the days off” Nick joked, but Judy’s expression didn’t exactly communicate very much amusement.

Grabbing the grumpy bunny, Nick pulled her into a tight hug and nuzzled her between the ears: “Come on, it’ll be ok”

“You say that, but who’s going to do Bogo’s job?” Judy said, struggling to maintain her frown due to Nick’s choice nuzzling and wandering paws.

Nick could feel Judy’s body relaxing gradually: “I’m guessing one of the lieutenants on the evening or graveyard shift will get a temporary promotion – that’s what they said standard procedure was when I was at the academy. Anything else you want to worry about?”

“Worry? Maybe I should worry about the claw marks on my panties the way you’re going at them… oh and we have like seven invitations to other talk shows, radio shows, and a couple of paw casts” Judy said, squirming in a mix of anticipation and mock resistance to Nick’s expert stimulation.

After the two had their fun Nick finally responded to the sixteen increasingly angry messages from Finnick, calling their friend over so he could hear what had happened at O’Chra. The fennec brought booze and snacks in return.

“Aw man, you made Springer bitch out? I seriously hope they keep that in the final cut of the show” Finnick said with slurred speech, waving a comparably huge beer can around.

Nick tried to say something, but Judy was snuggling around in his lap, which made things difficulty but pleasantly stimulating: “Well… hey now… O’Chra said that its all for the ratings, and – whoa – I can’t imagine that they’ll ditch a drama-bomb like that”

“You really brought you’re a-game Nick – I’m proud of you!” the fennec slurred, his ears flopping around all over the place.

Judy stretched, somehow managing to stick her feet up in front of Nick’s face: “No he didn’t – neither of us got to say ‘it’s a hustle’ while we were there…”

“Judy, you don’t have to say that every time we one-up someone… and you’re drunk” Nick somehow said with a straight face, as he had been drinking at least just as much as the others.

The bunny scooted around to face Nick, sounding comically disappointed: “We didn’t even use the thing you put in the contract”

“You put something in the contract with the show?” Finnick said with a raised eyebrow and a far too wide and knowing smirk.

Seeing that Finnick had already caught on to what Judy had alluded to, Nick simply nodded: “Yes,a bit like with what we did with Hoarfrost Limited – but they never got to a point where we had to use it”

“Fuck Nick… you don’t fuck with showbiz like that! That’s crazy!” the fennec said, followed by a nervous laugh.

Nick spun Judy around so her back was to him, even with her still on his lap, so she could reach her beer: “Hey now, I’m the only one who gets to fuck with this crazy bunny”

“Darn straight” Judy chimed in after draining her beer.


	14. A Feast Of Pain

“So this is it?”

“Almost – give it a few days to heat up, but yes we’re in the final stretch”

“And you’re certain about what side to pick here?”

“You saw what happened at the O’Chra show taping – that’s the way the wind will blow after this, so we’re setting sail”

“You need to cut down on the word games, but I understand – I just don’t like how we have to keep waiting”

“With Bogo out it wont take long. By the time O’Chra airs that episode we’ll have fire in the streets, and after it airs we’ll pull the trigger on the big counter-protest. It will look amazing”

“It better, I don’t like that we have to have front row seats for it”

“You know it wouldn’t look good if we weren’t there for the big finale”

“Right right – and the ram will do his part?”

“He won’t do anything else – I made sure the commissioner picked him. That idiot couldn’t come up with an independent thought if his life depended on it”

“How does someone like that make lieutenant?”

“No clue, but he makes for an excellent sacrificial lamb, which serves our purposes just fine. We want the final battle to be a victory for the citizens, not just the ZPD”

…

“This is Laura Peckish with ZNN, I’m one block away from another anti meat protest, here at one of the largest supermarkets in Savannah Central. I’m a block away because the protesters have requested a media blackout, citing fears of online harassment and police violenc-“

Nick flipped to another channel and groaned: “Right, because you don’t like it when law-abiding citizens tell you to stop throwing rocks and bottles around, or when we come and arrest you for it… at least try to be subtle”

“Complaining at the TV again dear?” Judy asked sarcastically out from the kitchen.

Not wanting to dignify her ‘question’ with an answer, Nick instead inquired: “Any news from Clawhauser?

“No, he keeps getting the same message from internal affairs – that they’re still processing our file” Judy noted, in a far glummer tone.

It had been three days and still nothing – and there were limits to what two suspended police officers could do with that much free time… even Nick needed his refractory periods between sex.

Joining Nick on the couch, Judy flipped her ears around, aiming at the window facing the street.

“Can you still hear them?” Nick asked, sounding both bored and annoyed.

Nodding, Judy confirmed that the muted buzz of drones with cameras could still be heard on the other side of the window. At least Nick’s trick with greasing up the windowsills had prevent any drones from landing and jamming microphones up to the window for eaves-dropping.

“I’ll give them props for ingenuity – I never dabbled with drones… but here I thought living on the fourth floor would mean that we wouldn’t have to contend with window-peekers” Nick said, still sounding annoyed, but also just a tad impressed.

Judy snatched the remote and checked the program listings: “I just hate that we can barely make it out for groceries without being swarmed now… it’s like after taping the O’Chra show all the tabloids and sleaseballs crawled out from under their rocks”

“I don’t know. The attention I can live with, it’s the ones who want us to act like freaks in front of their cameras that annoy me the most…” Nick noted, his tail giving off a nervous twitch.

Finding what she was looking for, Judy cracked a smile: “I know, but you have to admit that arresting that paparazzi cow who lifted you up by the tail was a lot of fun”

“No, confiscating his camera and taking the photos from it was the best part… he was so pissed” the fox recalled with a most pleased grin.

“True – we might technically be suspended, but assault is still assault” Judy mused.

With smiles back on their faces, the two kicked back and watched the O’Chra episode featuring them as it finally aired. Judy’s phone pretty much melted from the amount of messages and emails she during and after the airing…

The next day the duo resolved to visit precinct one directly to find out what the hold-up was with them getting back to work.

This presented several challenges: With the O’Chra episode aired the paparazzies had even more questions and were even more eager to get a quote or a candid photo – but the duo had their counter-measures: Ever since the tabloid creeps had shown up they had started wearing the same or very similar sets of clothes all the time. New photos of them in the same clothes, especially with sunglasses on, had already lost their ‘news’ value – making most of the tabloid photographers ease off.

Still, leaving their home without ending up with a small entourage of mammals who wouldn’t take “buzz off” as an answer was a difficult thing to avoid. Calling in a favour with Fangmeyer, Judy arranged for a pickup. Sure, the tabloid jokers got some pictures of the duo entering a police car, but it wasn’t much, and it was fast enough that the duo could easily ignore their questions which now seemed to mainly revolve around the duo’s sex-life.

“Thanks – avoiding those idiots is getting really hard” Judy said, ignoring the strange feeling of being in the back-seat of a cruiser.

“Anything – glad to help, especially after what you two did to calm things down on O’chra” Fangmeyer noted, the tigress sounding cheerful if not a bit tired.

“Did it make that big of a difference already?” Judy wondered.

The tigress nodded: “Hell yes. I talked to the guys monitoring anti-fang online activity, and they said attendance is way down – and a lot more mammals are talking about counter-protesting anti-fang now”

“Sweet, can you take us by the precinct?” Nick asked while Judy strapped in.

Fangmeyer didn’t answer immideatly, waiting just a little too for long the duo to not be suspicious: “Sure… but I’m glad I’m not going in there with you"

The duo refrained from asking, fearing that they would learn soon enough what the problem was – and true enough: They learned it the hard way.

Precinct one, with its impressive square stone columns on its façade, sitting on the eastern side of the large square that had city hall in the north end, was looking… crowded… and no in the good way.

It looked as if a massive protest was bogging down traffic going in and out of the precinct, with two dozen officers running back and forth trying to keep some open corridors for foot traffic trying to get in. The duo dodged this by Fangmeyer and her partner dropping them off in the motor pool.

Inside, the duo emerged into the lobby only to find it stuffed with mammals. Hundreds of voices speaking or shouting over each other made it difficult to hear anything, let alone getting up to Clawhauser.

“Benji, what’s happening?” Just said, finally managing to jump off a gnu over to the fat cheetah’s front desk.

The cheetah looked absolutely miserable: “Oh its terrible… I mean, look at this place – we’re barely able to get any work done at all”

“We can see that – but why are everyone here?” Nick wondered, popping up to the desk between a horse and a rhino.

The cheetah lamented that some new rules from city hall set up required that the local precinct chiefs sign off on “high risk public protests” – to which end the new temporary chief was apparently refusing to sign pretty much any of them: “All these mammals… they’re here to complain, because that apparently has to be done to the chief as well, in person!”

“That’s crazy – how can this new chief get any work done?” Judy wondered.

Benji shrugged: “I don’t think he can… at least not anything else. He doesn’t even have time for bullpen briefings”

“You know, that’s funny – because I keep seeing anti-fang doing their protests on the news… are they getting their protests permitted?” Nick commented, recalling all the dubiously positive news coverage from ZNN about anti-fang’s antics he’d seen the last couple of days.

The cheetah leaned back on his chair, the chair groaning dangerously: “I know… they’re not – but nobody can get a permit to set up a legal counter-protest, least of all with the new chief. I think he just wants to wait until it all goes away”

Suddenly a strange wave of calm seemed to radiate through the crowd. Nick, Judy and Clawhauser looked around in confusion… then Judy’s phone bleeped. It was her news alert app bleep.

As Judy reached for her phone Nick and Clawhauser couldn’t help but notice that everyone else reached for their phone as well...

“Nick…” Judy said, looking at her phone with a shocked expression.

A similar expression was spread through-out the crowd like lightning, but as Nick turned to check on Judy he was instead faced with her phone and a very simple headline: “Bellwether kidnapped from house-arrest”

Apparently, during the night, someone had broken into her house prison: “There are signs of a struggle, torn bits of wool and other signs of the exit not having been voluntary for the ex-mayor” Nick read out aloud.

“Clawhauser did you know about this?” Judy very quickly asked, just as similar murmurs broke out in the precinct lobby crowd.

The cheetah shook his head: “No but if the ZPD let the media in then they’ve already processed the crime scene… the chief would have known”

“I’m guessing they kept it quiet to avoid a panic?” Nick wondered.

The cheetah looked around the crowd, seeing a lot of very worried predators: “Well that’s a little late now. Who do you two think did… it?”

Nick and Judy were already on the their way up to the chief’s office. The long line that stretched down into the lobby was easy enough to follow, and quite a few of those mammals were quite offended to see the bunny and fox dodge the line, but the duo had brought their badges which silenced most complaints.

Having skipped the line, the duo bust into the office. Judy was just about go to “Sir” and ask about Bellwether’s kidnapping when she saw who the new chief was.

Him. That ram, the lieutenant from the park protest.

“You two are still suspended – why are you two here?” the ram said, sounding no at all angry like how Bogo would usually be when interrupted. If anything he sounded a bit sad or dejected, like a teenager who just got more homework to do.

The duo stood somewhat dumbstruck. The deer sitting opposite acting chief… Hornblower – that’s what the desk name-thingy said – was dressed in a screamingly colourful long T-shirt and worn slacks looked back and forth between the chief and the duo: “Hey I’m not done yet, wait your turn”

“We’re police officers maam – and chief, why wasn’t I informed that Bellwether had been kidnapped?” Judy said, feeling very weird that she wasn’t actually on the defence in the face of an angry and loud chief.

The ram pondered the question silently for a moment. If almost seemed as if he was relishing in the break from having to explain himself to random citizens about his choice to rubber-stamp, or more likely not stamp, protest permits.

“I wasn’t aware that you had to be kept in the loop about Bellwether. Plus, you’re still suspended” the ram said dryly and unblinkingly.

The speedy thumping of Judy’s angry right foot was impossible to miss: “Sir… Chief Hornblower, do we even know if it was a jail-break or a sheep-napping? Because if Bellwether is out again, don’t you think that warning the bunny that put her behind bars would be a god idea? What were you thinking?!”

Nick had never heard Judy speak so angrily to Bogo. Sure, he had heard it a few times when she had whinged about the few parts of her extended family that she didn’t see eye to eye with, but to a superior? To her own boss? This was new.

It was difficult for the fox to gauge exactly what kind of reaction that Judy wanted from the ram. The ram’s apparent lack of reaction didn’t help either – damn those blank sheep eyes, they were so difficult to read: “Officer Hopps, please – until you and your partner’s files are processed at internal affairs I’m supposed to keep you suspended. That was Bogo’s standing orders”

The duo left, Judy fuming and Nick feeling quite torn on whether he should berate his partner for speaking in such a way to their boss, or if he should try to calm her down.

Unsure of what to do, Nick simply followed Judy, not even noticing that they had arrived at Internal Affairs.

To mere mortals, the Internal Affairs department looked very much like an ordinary police department: There were desks, computers, lots of high-walled cubicles in a relatively open office environment, and officers milling about doing work, though most of them were shooting the duo rather suspicious looks and quickly took measures to ensure that the duo didn’t see what they were working with.

Looking around to spot the IA agents that had been present last week in Bogo’s office when the duo had been cleared of all charged but still suspended, Judy scowled as she spotted the horse…

A polite request and a bit paperwork later and the report was filed. It turned out that the old jaguar had fallen ill over the weekend, so the report had stranded on his desk.

“You know fluff, there’s a certain amount of satisfaction in learning that your problems aren’t rooted in some grand conspiracy for once…” Nick said as they left the Internal Affairs department. 

With a noticeable amount of relief Judy bounced along, happy to agree with Nick’s observation: “True – I had no idea IA was this busy… makes sense though, if there’s that many prey officers officers sympathising with anti-fang”

“Ya about that – I don’t think agent Saddlesore was supposed to let that slip, so how about we don’t say that out loud out anywhere” Nick noted, not wanting to get into trouble again.

Judy stopped for a moment, thinking: “You’re probably right – but why would he say that to us then?”

“No clue – but probably the same reason regular officers usually slip up: Overworked, too big a case-load, plus he was a partner short” the fox mused as the two returned to acting Chief Hornblower’s office.

The ram had to check his computer first to see if the duo’s files had updated correctly – they had: “Right, you’re off suspension. Take the rest of the day off and be ready for the big day tomorrow”

“The big day?” Judy wondered, still a bit peeved by the ram’s strangely relaxed and calm behaviour. Where was his fire, his passion for his job?

The ram turned back to the wildebeest bull whom the duo had interrupted when they had popped in: “You’ll be briefed tomorrow, now let me get back to my work please”

Leaving the office, Judy still felt weird about the new chief – so much so that Nick could see it on her ears: “What’s bothering you fluff? We got our jobs back, we should celebrate!”

“He said please… the chief… Bogo, he never said please” Judy mused.

Getting back home was reasonably peaceful – most of the paparazzis had left after the duo had left, though the hare from last Saturday at Vinewood was there, waiting, with a camera-phone out: “Hey, Nick, Judy – loved you on O’Chra, but I have some question if yo-“

And that was the door closed.

Back in their apartment the two celebrated getting back on duty with hot steamy… food, followed by some very stimulating… conversation – and then they also had some sex, but who cares about that, right?

The next day the duo showed up for morning muster, but quickly discovered that there weren’t anyone in the bullpen… at all. It didn’t help that they had missed the sign out in front of the precinct that said that the chief wasn’t signing protest permits that day – it might have given them a hint of what was to come.

Nick wasn’t particularly phased by the experience, but Judy had never seen the room so vacant… at least not before a morning briefing.

“Oh hey you two – everyone is over in the armory, come on” Clawhauser said, just barely managing to stop at the door on his way by.

The duo quickly followed suit, discovering a surprisingly large number of officers – some well rested, some still looking like they were missing their morning cup of java – and in the middle of the acting Chief Hornblower, who was putting on riot gear.

Everyone just stood and watched, waiting for Hornblower to say something.

Judy looked angry, but she wasn’t taping her feet just yet. Nick just couldn’t get a read on the guy – was he doing this as some kind of power play? Mind games? He didn’t look angry, he didn’t look annoyed… just… focused on putting on his kit.

“Orders sir?” someone from the back said.

Hornblower looked up, for a split second looking a bit confused at who had asked, but then he just shrugged and checked his straps: “Well… what are you waiting for, suit up”

It hadn’t sounded angry, or really like much of an order either – more as if someone had arrived late to a party and Hornblower was inviting one to join in – except nobody knew what they were joining in on…

“Sir, suit up for what? Is there a briefing?” Fangmeyer asked, the tigress sounding suitably standoffish and aloof as befit a large feline… or more likely using that tone of voice as an excuse to ask the glaringly obvious.

The ram stopped checking his straps and let out a very short but obviously annoyed bleat. Looking around, Nick estimated that this was probably the first time that Hornblower had ever expressed emotion to anyone of the officers present – and there were officers from the day, evening and night shift present!

“Didn’t you all get the email?”

Everyone looked around, confused at what Hornblower was asking.

“What email?” Judy asked, her annoyance finally getting the better of her.

Hornblower turned to face the bunny: “I sent out an email yesterday with the briefing on this – made a nice powerpoint and everything”

Nick had never seen so many police officers look sad and disheartened. It didn’t help that he himself probably looked just as disheartened – how the hell had this moron been made into a police chief?

“Sir, briefing – now – explain what the hell we’re doing here” Judy commanded, reminding Nick just a little too much of how she occasionally sounded in bed when he’d teased her a little too much.

The ram instantly straightened up with a sharp but brief bleat: “Right. City hall notified me yesterday that some pro-meat protestors had found a way around the new rules for protest permits and gotten the greenlight for a pretty big protest in front of city hall from nine to three today. We’re going to put up a two officer thick wall between them and cityhall and keep things orderly”

That the ram had been able to say all that in one breath simply flabbergasted Nick. A lot of other officers appeared to look similarly shocked, though probably not for the same reasons – big protests were never registered the day before they were to take place – this was incredibly fishy.

With actual clear orders and what even sounded like a proper plan, everyone suited up. Nobody even questioned why they were dressing up in riot gear for a pro-meat protest – everyone knew that it wasn’t because the pro-meat protestors were likely to be violent – they all knew it was likely for the anti-fang response that was bound to happen.

Walking out the front of precinct one, up the quarter mile square that connected the front of precinct one to city hall, everyone lined up. The pro-meat protest organizers were already there, setting up picnic tables and unpacking banners from a couple of vans, all the while the giant advertising LED screens on the high-rise buildings flashed adverts for things nobody knew they needed to buy.

That almost half the flags seemed to have slogans against anti-fang was hard to miss – though “anti-anti-fang” didn’t exactly roll of the tongue that well, though most of them seemed to be focused on freedom of speech and freedom of assembly. Indeed, it seemed to be a protest aimed at city hall’s new protest permit rules and their apparent playing favourites with anti-fang.

By nine the media showed up. This was apparently the first pro-meat protest in a while, but it quickly became painfully apparent that this wasn’t what all the journalists had arrived for…

“Officer Hopps, can we ask you a question or two? I’m with the Zootopia Daily. What exactly is the nature of your relationship with Officer Nick Wilde?”

A lot of permutations of that question followed, quite a few of which being not at all vague in their inquiry into the duo’s love-life, choice of sexual positions, lubrication, musical accompaniment to their love-life and so on. Then again, it was fairly obvious that this was the first pro-meat rally that the tabloid journos had shown up to, so of course a few them got talking as well – there simply wasn’t room for all of them to badger Nick and Judy with thoroughly unnecessary questions all the time.

The rest of the officers holding the line seemed to understand the situation well enough, though there were still questions unanswered:

“Chief, what’s the plan once trouble shows up?” someone asked over radio. None of the other officers on the line questioned what kind of ‘trouble’ the reference was to.

Hornblower once again took way too long to reply, his thought process and exact motivation remaining a mystery: “Any of you expecting trouble?”

Was he playing naïve, or was the ram just that dull-witted? Everyone wondered, nobody asked.

More predator mammals and prey supporters showed up as the day passed. Just after the kitchen staff from city hall had finished distributing lunch to the police line the first anti-fang look-alikes showed up in the distance.

At first it was five youngsters, all clad in black pants, black hoodies and with noticeably black scarfs ready for masking purposes. There was absolutely no doubt to what they had shown up for… but with only five of them there wasn’t much happening.

Two hours later those five had blossomed to a couple hundred, but in the same period the legit protestors had also swelled to the roughly the same numbers – it was a lot of predators and prey supporters.

The tension in the air was so thick one might as well cut it with a knife and serve it up for dinner. The mammals on the square knew what would happen – but with the eighty or so ZPD officers, most of which were secretly bored to tears standing in a nice line on the steps of city hall, then the anti-fang mob didn’t seem all that enthusiastic when it came to starting trouble.

The fireworks didn’t start until just after two. It was just under an hour until the pro-meat protest had to wrap up, and the anti-fang numbers had swelled to at least five hundred mammals all clad in black, though it had peaked about an hour earlier, more anti-fang mammals having left in the last hour than having joined up. Neither Nick nor Judy wanted to even think how many makeshift weapons were hidden among the black-clad mob.

The pro-meat protest had also increased in size, somehow managing to keeping up with the growing anti-fang mob. It was clear that the mammal’s of Zootopia were making a stand against the kind of tyranny that anti-fang wanted.

That Hornblower hadn’t issued any kind of orders to somehow pre-emtively disperse the obvious mob of anti-fang goons annoyed Judy endlessly – but riot-gear made it difficult for anyone to hear her frustrated foot-tapping.

The fireworks erupted just after two thirty – quite literally. Something from the anti-fang mob chucked a glass bottle with some kind of at least mildly explosive fireworks, into the pro-meat protest crowd. The number of injuries seemed minimal, but the response it provoked appeared to be exactly what the anti-fang mob had wanted:

Several dozen large predators – bears, wolves, lions and what have you, pulled out wooden shields. The camera feeds from precinct one were just barely able to resolve images of it: A shield wall that spanned almost the entire protest, blocking off the leering anti-fang goons.

A line had been drawn in the sand.

It didn’t take many moments before someone among the anti-fang took it as a challenge.

From the police line it was pretty much impossible to see who started it – but once the fighting started it spread like wild-fire along the shield-wall that the protest had set up. Dozens of mammals, predators, prey, all of them from the legit protest, came up to the police line begging to be let through to the other side – for safety.

“Sir, I have six sand-cats here asking to be let through the line?” Judy asked over the radio, looking at the half-dozen diminutive and terrified felines standing before her.

For who knows what time Hornblower took his sweet time before coming up with answer, once more sounding thoroughly disinterested – if not downright bored: “Nobody gets through the line – city hall’s orders”

Judy looked at the sand-cats. Until a few minutes ago she hadn’t even been aware that felines that small existed – apparently they lived in Sahara Square: “I’m sorry – I’m under orders not to let anyone through. Try getting out at the outer edge of the protest”

“They have us boxed in… we have nowhere to go!” was all Judy managed to get for reply before a fireworks rocket shot in overhead, exploding behind the police line.

In the daylight the explosion of the rocket itself was difficult to see – to put it mildly – but the shockwave and the boom, especially for the officers closest to the explosion, was enough to knock both Nick and Judy over.

Their colleagues quickly helping them up, several calls rang out over the radio asking the chief for what to do now that explosives were being tossed at them.

This was not an appropriate time to say nothing – but Hornblower sure took his sweet time before responding with even a frightened bleat: “Get them!”

To the ZNN cameras, seeing the riot-gear clad ZPD officers break the line and begin to move through the protest it was like Christmas morning. 

Many of the pro-meat protestors took the opportunity to move through the dissolved police line to the other side, away from the fighting. 

To Nick and Judy it was the deliciously cathartic release of getting to do a full frontal charge against a mob of masked anti-fang goons.

The anti-fang mob reacted as one might expect the moment that the news of the police counter-attack spread through it: Those out in front tried to get away from the incoming darts, peper-spray and tasers, while those in the back threw everything they had at them, be it glass bottles, fireworks or the odd jar of what was hopefully just piss.

First priority for the ZPD officers was to create a cordon around the protest – this was standard protocol. Letting the protestors get back behind them meant fighting off the anti-fang mammals, and while most of them were bigger than Nick and Judy, then their riot-grade shock-wands worked wonderfully to make larger mammals let go of whoever they were beating on.

The second priority was Hornblower’s order – to “get them” – something the officers switched to once the all-clear for the protestors was sounded over the radio: “This is team six, our end is clear, going for arrests”

With professional team-work the larger of the officers began grabbing anti-fang mammals that were within reach, holding them down for their smaller colleagues to cuff them and taze them if they resisted. Nick and Judy zipped around swiftly, cuffing mammals left and right. Oh sure, they were still dodging rocks and the odd flash of fireworks being tossed into their midst, but their riot armor – the turtle shells – was built to withstand that kind of stuff, even their visors had sensors like on welding goggles that blackened briefly for bright flashes.

The anti-fang goons being captured did not have those protections – and quite a few of them bore the brunt of friendly fire, getting singed by the fireworks and battered by the rocks being thrown – plus it wasn’t particularly fun being forced to sit and wait out the riot on ground where glass bottles were being tossed around.

Despite there barely being eighty ZPD officers, the anti-fang mob quickly began to falter. Those at the fringes of it quickly began to run away, and those at the front saw their comrades being captured and arrested. It was a good day to be on the job – to see anti-fang in all its might finally fall to the law.

This was when the giant LED advert screens all suddenly turned off, going dark. Nobody really paid any attention to it…

…about fifteen seconds later, ex-mayor Bellwether, smiling from ear to ear, sitting on a very posh office chair as if it was a throne, appeared on the screens, her voice blaring out: “Hello Zootopia, did you miss me?”

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back?


	15. Late Night(howler) Snack

“Are you seeing this?”

“I am - what the absolute shit… was this part of your plan?”

“Nope, we are officially off-script”

“God fucking damnit – I thought you said that Bellwether was out of this”

“I read the reports from the prison shrink, from the cops checking in on her… if she hid this from us for this long…”

“So what are we going to do now?”

“Well, think about it: With her on the anti-fang side it’s all the more important to crush them now – and it’ll be all the easier to look good to the public when we come out against her”

“Right, and how the fuck are you going to do that? I’m seeing busses coming in from Lionheart Avenue full of masked mammals”

“Figures she’d use this as a distraction to sneak in reinforcements. Put down those binoculars before anyone sees you”

“You say that… but I don’t think she’d do this if she didn’t have a plan to win”

“Oh stop complaining – if push comes to shove I can always do the thing”

“What thing?”

“You’ll see – but let’s hope I don’t have to do that. It always has bad optics in the press and I don’t want to have to deal with the fallout from that. Besides, you should happy: Now we can brush all of this off on Bellwether”

…

It was strange to see what was left of the riotous fighting suddenly grind to a halt – but everyone was looking at the screens.

“Hi, it’s me! – and look at the mess you have all made of my city. I leave you all in charge for two years and then I get this? Predators eating prey meat in the streets, a bunny on TV waving around bits of dead pig as if it’s something to be proud of? What has come of this place?” Bellwether said, looking both amused and annoyed at the same time, as if cruelly toying with someone she don’t really like.

Four busses from various bus companies drove onto the square from Lionheart Avenue, parking about a hundred yards from the riot, just behind the media vans.

“Really, it’s as if nobody was listening back when I was in charge. I was trying to show you all how dangerous predators really were. Sure, I had to use some creative means to show it, but did you listen? No, you put me in jail and tossed away the key! And now what, prey meat is being sold all over the city as some kind of new delicacy? It’s sick – and I’m here to cure that sickness. Sweety, do you thing” Bellwether said, making a dismissive gesture to someone off-camera.

The image of the ewe flickered off, the ad-screens going black once more. 

From the bus poured dozens of black-clad masked mammals, one of them climbing up on top of one of the busses and making wild gestures, seemingly commanding the others around.

“Yes, back-up arrived!” one of the arrested anti-fang mammals behind Nick and Judy shouted. With that the fighting began once more, the anti-fang mob seemingly having gained a second wind from the pause in the fighting and the news of supposed reinforcements.

Moving through the media vans and the news crews, the new arrivals formed a second black herd on the square. The tallest of the ZPD officers counted at least a hundred and fifty or so large mammals in the mob.

This was a bit of a problem: With the original police line long gone, the protestors were largely unprotected from this flanking attacking, as most of the ZPD officers had been drawn towards the previously retreating anti-fang mob.

There wasn’t enough time to move into position to brace against the charge, resulting in dozens of protestors getting caught in the charge, while the two dozen ZPD officers who had managed to get out in front found themselves swarmed.

“Argh! They don’t tase!” it sounded over the radio, one panicked officer shouting into her headset.

Don’t tase? All mammals ‘tase’ if they get tased – what was she talking about?

It turned out that the newly arrived anti-fang didn’t react particularly much to tasers. This wasn’t just bad – this was weird. Oh sure, they would drop to a tranq dart, but tasing just seemed to piss them off.

Nick and Judy, zipping around the legs of the much larger anti-fang mammals and poking them left and right with their shock-wands learned this very quickly, was quite exhilarating, but with the new ones… ya… sure they would do the giga-volt jig while being tased, but they wouldn’t subsequently collapse from it.

“Nick… it’s just like the ram last year, at ZU” Judy said over the radio.

Ever so slightly busy, it took a few seconds before Nick could answer: “When we rescued Mulberry? You think they’re on N3?”

“How else do you explain that they’re able to shrug off a right hook from McHorn?” Judy very quickly replied, bouncing along on the heads of hooded and masked anti-fang goons.

N3. The third strain of nighthowlers that Bellwether’s shooter/drug-maker trio had created. It had never been revealed to the public, and they had only managed to sell a tiny amount of it the previous year before getting busted. Its effects were simple enough: As opposed to enraging you, it numbed your mind. You didn’t feel pain, fear, or anything like that – and in being fearless the user would no longer be afraid of the consequences of their actions.

With limited ammunition for their dart guns, and more busses arriving, the tide of the battle quickly turned.

“Pull back into city hall – bar the doors!” Hornblower commanded over the radio, his voice quivering in fear.

This was the second anti-fang siege that Nick and Judy found themselves part of – only this time she was on the wrong side of that siege.

Trying to talk to Hornblower about their suspicion of N3 use turned out to be useless: The ram was horrified and largely beyond reach, the constant banging on the doors making for a terrifying racket.

With the chief basically out of the game, the senior officers gathered up for a strategy meeting:

“McHorn, how are the doors holding?” asked Lieutenant Ishrat, a burly tapir who looked and sounded like he lived off a steady diet of protein powder and gravel, mixed the tears of arrested criminals.

The sergeant grimaced: “They’ll hold – but it depends on whether they can get any tools up to bust them open”

Worried murmurs made rounds in the circle. Another sergeant confirmed that city hall was effectively surrounded – every exit was covered by vans and anti-fang goons.

“It’s a god damn insurrection…”

“Have they made any kind of demands?”

“Some of them are shouting that we should surrender and let them have city hall, but others are saying that we’re traitors and need to die… so… I’m not entirely convinced”

“What about the bunny? She had an idea about what happened out there?”

“Right, Officer Hopps - you’re up” 

Judy came into the meeting room, looking just as bruised as the other officers. Sure, riot armor protected you quite well – but there were limits to how many bricks and bits of cobblestone it could deflect without leaving a mark.

Explaining her experience with N3, and the rather important detail that the effect of the drug being temporary, Judy saw the faces of her fellow officers brighten: “I think if we hold out for a few hours more, then if we coordinate a counter-attack from precinct one… then we can swing this”

A lot of mammals around her nodded, after which Judy was asked to leave so the senior officers could deliberate.

Ultimately the officers and the city hall security guards were briefed on the final plan: With more or less no more tranq darts left, and shock-wand charge quite low, then the situation was dire. However, reinforcements had gathered at precinct one from the other precincts, so there was hope yet.

Of course, with a city hall full of staff, city council-members and other city officials then a break-out to precinct one would need to factor their evacuation in as well: “We don’t know if the anti-fang mob has any more drugged up shock troops, but we know that the drug they use for that only works temporarily, and they’re still vulnerable to darts, even if they need a couple before the effect kicks in. Everyone else gets tased. Our goal is break through the mob outside and make a secure corridor to precinct one”

The afternoon sun hung low, and many anxious office workers peered out from the second and third floor windows in city hall down at the mob waiting for them outside.

“I can’t believe they haven’t given us any demands” Judy mused as she and Nick got ready for the counter-attack. Everyone was putting on their riot gear again, checking their shock-wand battery levels and sharing around what few darts there were left.

The break-out started with one final attempt at diplomacy: A wombat from the Communication department was let out the front doors, to approach the anti-fang mob camping out around the steps of city hall.

“What are your demands?” the wombat called out, unsure of exactly how many of the masked mammals could hear her.

It took a few seconds for the mob to respond. A few disparate shouts and jeers first, but then a capybara walked out among the hooded and masked mammals: “The unconditional surrender of city hall and the ZPD to the Anti-fang protectorate. All predators and prey-traitors will submit for screening and re-education!”

“Of course she’d show up for something like this” Judy groaned, peering out from the windows at Marie Reeds, the capybara who now seemed to be some kind of anti-fang ring-leader.

Nick shrugged, not that you could really see that in his riot armor: “Well at least we got some concrete demands… I wonder if the jokers in charge want to rethink the plan?”

The wombat came back in, looking at all the battle-ready officers: “They’re a lot more than you out there…”

“We know – now please get back ma’am” McHorn said, his voice gruff and steely, matching the grim look he was sending out the window on the door before him.

Suddenly there was a bit of commotion up on the balcony overlooking the ground floor lobby of city hall. Mayor Swinton emerged, flanked by nervous looking security guards.

“Great, what does she want now?” Judy wondered quietly.

Someone behind the Mayor handed the pig a microphone. She tapped it once, and the city hall PA system sprung to life: “Right, I have a little message to the good mammals of the ZPD before you go out there”

No small amount of murmurs and groans rang out from the massed officers in riot gear. This was so not the time for political grandstanding.

“Now now – I’m not going to make your work any harder, quite the contrary. Between Bellwether apparently being in charge of the mob outside, to that capybara and their demands, then I’m officially declaring martial law” Mayor Swinton stated firmly and with a clear and concise voice.

The murmurs and groaning instantly fell to silence.

“This is your show now. I want those masked goons off the streets, and I’m leaving it up to you how!” Swinton said, receiving a roaring cheer in return.

The doors to city hall swung open, and in the dimming afternoon sun, with its long shadows, riot-clad ZPD officers charged into the anti-fang encampment.

With officers pouring down on them from the steps to city hall, the mob initially recoiled from the sudden charge. Organized response was scattered and the few large masked mammals that managed to start putting up a fight were quickly picked off by police snipers on the roof city hall – they had gotten most of the remaining darts to work with.

The breakthrough to precinct one went well – they were almost there when a herd of drugged up anti-fang yaks and bulls of indeterminate bovine nature crashed into them. Getting new drugs distributed had probably taken a bit longer than expected.

Judy had never actually seen a mammal get gored. Nick probably hadn’t either – but he didn’t scream like she did when they saw it. It was some poor office worker from city hall, a goat from the looks of it, who had been caught in the horns of a drugged up stag and flung aside like a rag-doll.

The ensuing melee was brutal – punching and kicking didn’t really work, neither did shock-wands, and darts were in short supply – so roughly measures to neutralize the drugged up attackers had to be used.

By the time they got in through the doors of precinct one, between dodging the burning patches of ground from Molotov cocktails, and the brutal fighting, then a lot of mammals hadn’t reached safety…

McHorn falling over with a loud crash on the floor of the precinct lobby was like the icing of the dread cake that had been served up: The two tranq darts lodged in his armor, and the one that had struck an exposed spot on his left arm said it all – there were either rogue cops among the anti-fang, or the mob had gotten their hands on police weapons. 

Lieutenant Ishrat quickly called for someone to pull McHorn aside: “See if there’s something that’ll wake him up in a first aid kit somewhere”

Judy looked around at the mammals who had made it. She really didn’t want to think about what might have happened, or what would happen, to the ones who hadn’t reached the precinct – and it was clear that a lot of others were thinking the same thing.

“Fluff, you ok?” Nick asked, noticing that Judy didn’t look hurt but her armor had at least five seperate splatters of blood spatter on it.

Holding out her paws, her fluffy digits covered in sturdy segmented gloves, Judy shook her head as she tried to wipe the blood off: “I think I hurt someone out there…”

“A lot of mammals got hurt out there” the fox mused, drawing Judy in for a hug – even if it rattled a bit more than usual due to their riot armor.

It was almost five. A lot of office staff from city hall hadn’t made it… rumour seemed to be that many had tried to hide within city hall – which was already sporting crude black banners hanging from the windows.

Clawhauser was hurrying around among everyone with a large trolley filled with coffee, donuts, refreshments and anything else he had been able to wheel out of the break room. The pile of first aid kits on his trolley was a grim reminder that he wasn’t just feeding the hungry…

By the time the injured had been triaged and shock-wand batteries swapped out, the remains of the present ZPD leadership – two lieutenants and two sergeants, plus a very soundly asleep McHorn who was only there in spirit, at least until he woke up again – the next plan of action took form. Hornblower’s suggestions were thoroughly ignored.

“Alright everyone – listen up: We need to do three things before this day is over. The city council, the mayor, and everyone else we got out from city hall needs to be escorted home or somewhere safe, and there’s a good chance that we’re on our own for this at this point: Precinct four, six and seven aren’t responding to calls anymore, and three and five sent calls for help while you were out fighting. Anti-fang struck at several places today – that’s probably why some of you got darted during the break-out from city hall; they must have looted a police armory somewhere” Clawhauser announced over the PA system, sounding eerily and uncharacteristically serious as he read from the notes that had been passed to him.

Pausing only to breathe, Clawhauser continued: “Anyway, we need to get everyone home or to safety – we don’t have food or beds here for everyone. Second is that we need to figure out what to do about ourselves… anti-fang doesn’t seem too happy with mammals who work against them, so keep your families safe and everything. Third issue is how to deal with anti-fang after this, and I don’t know who’s heading that up”

Not the most cheerful or coherent news, but considering how shook up everyone were then nobody questioned it.

The first point of order was anonymously grouping the various mammals who had to be escorted home, so they could be put into squad cars or vans going in the right directions, but in such a way that nobody but the drivers knew who they were taking where. Hornblower seemed perfectly happy to order officers around and just be a lieutenant again – indeed, he seemed quite relieved that he wasn’t considered in charge any more, instead of buzzing around with a clipboard telling the civilian mammals going home which cars in the motorpool they were to assemble at.

Nick and Judy found that they were assigned to a group going to a place near Sandy Ridge in Sahara Square. In the motorpool, it was not difficult to overhear worried voices from various officers talking about how they were much more interested in getting home and protecting their families than escorting random strangers around the city. The duo couldn’t help but feel a twinge of worry about their own apartment – was it safe for them to go home after all of this?

The mammals they were to escort turned out to be three city council members: Aurelina Canidae, a martin of some sort in a very nice suit and a fat bear lady who looked really worried.

Aurelina recognized the duo from the Pro-Tech opening event: “Hey it’s you two – good to know that we’re in good paws here”

“We’re trying councilwoman – now, where exactly are we going again?” Judy asked, trying to prepare herself for driving out into the city.

The councilwoman poked the martin, who was fumbling with his phone. He then showed his phone to Judy – it was displaying an address.

“That’s really close to the wall in Sahara Square – are you sure you want to go there?” Judy said, looking at the address.

The councilwoman confidently answered: “Trust me – we have a very good friend there, a loyal donor who has a bit of an underground mansion. If Bellwether wants to get us she’ll have to dig us out while tail-deep in scorching sands”

The duo couldn’t argue with a plan like that, and so they got ready and waited for the motorpool gate to open up.

Outside a dozen or so anti-fang goons sat and waited, fortified behind a couple of parked trucks blocking the entrance – but it was beaver-sized trucks and goons, so a single hippo police officer was able to push them out of the way.

As the cars and vans began pouring out of the motorpool several nearby cars started up and gave chase – but there were a lot more vehicles coming out of the precinct than there were cars lying in wait.

The duo made their way west-bound, their radio alive with constant updates whenever someone spotted an anti-fang road-block so others could avoid it.

“They’re setting up road-blocks? Good grief…” the bear councilwoman said, sounding none too pleased of the news.

Nick frowned: “Not just road-blocks – check points, they’re screening the afternoon traffic for predators…”

None of the mammals in the car wanted to talk or speculate about what was being done to predators caught at such a check-point.

Just past cactus grove, having dodged a road-block and gotten out on the open road on the north-eastern edge of the Sahara Square wall desert, two vans came onto the road following them. At first Judy just gunned the engine and trying to outrun them, but between the sand on the road and the hot winds from the wall then it was difficult to drive particularly fast and remain safe – and their police cruiser was outfitted for downtown and savannah central road conditions, not Sahara Square driving. The two vans tried to get up on either side of the squad car.

“Oh my god… no, not when we’re this close to being safe” the fat bear said, terror in her voice as she looked out the window.

Nick put on his shades and loaded a bladed dart into his dart gun: “Don’t worry – we’re professionals”

Very quickly rolling down his window, Nick leaned out and took a shot at the van on his side all the while the hot air from the outside spilled into the car. There was a split second of nothing but the sound of hot wind rushing by them, then a bang and the sound of metal scouring on road asphalt from one of the cars behind them.

“Got a wheel – they’re not going anywhere” Nick said triumphantly as he pulled himself in again and mashed the button to roll up his window.

The second van peeled off, to aid the downed van – but then another radio update ticked in: “Precinct seven confirms: complete road-block on Sand Drive, between Tundra Gate and Hump Street”

“Damnit – that’s where our exit is” Judy would have said – but in the next instant a bladed dart lodged itself in the rear windshield.

A second dart punched through, hitting councilwoman Aurelina in the shoulder. Judy quickly began making evasive manoeuvres, the plinking sound of other things – likely more darts – bounding off the squad car following seconds later.

“Shit shit – no don’t pull it out. Leave it in, it’ll plug the wound. Damnit… that’s police issue… did they really raid a precinct?” Nick said, having very quickly crawled back to the passenger seat to check the injuries on the wolf.

Between the whine of the injured wolf and Judy’s evasive driving, the bear suddenly began typing franticly on her phone: “Yes!”

Some might have considered it poor taste, but in the next instant she told Judy to take a left: “Go through the tundra gate – I have an inlaw, he’s a doctor. He has a clinic two blocks from the gate. He’s there right now!”

With their access to the originally planned hidey-hole blocked, Judy took a sharp left at the tundra gate – the anti-fang barricade full of masked camels much less than a stones-throw away, as they managed to pelt the right side of the car as it drove by them.

Up in tundra-town there wasn’t any sign of any road-blocks. So much of the traffic in the district was via ice-flows that simply blocking the roads wouldn’t do that much – plus the temperature generally warded off rabble-rousers from other parts of the city.

At the clinic the councilwolf got her wound sterilized and the dart carefully extracted: “You’re lucky – this looks to be just a flesh wound. Once this heals some minor physical therapy should bring back full use of your arm”

“Thank you – oww… say, can I have your card? I know a couple of committees that occasionally call in medical professionals for opinions on health risks for public initiatives” the wolf said, her voice pained but at the same time it was clear that she was trying to flip the situation to something useful.

The doctor didn’t get to answer. A brick through the front window, and the shriek of the arctic hare secretary he had working out in front took everyone’s attention.

“We’ve got company!” Judy said after very quickly sticking her head out to have a look.

Nick unholstered his dart gun: “What are we dealing with?”

“More than we have darts for – I think that other van picked up their buddies and tracked us down” Judy said, sounding very much not happy to be relaying that bit of news.

Using the clinic front as a bottleneck, the duo was able to dart the first half dozen masked mammals trying to storm the place – it wasn’t difficult: They all came through the same door, not wanting to walk over broken glass, so it was a shooting gallery of the easy kind. None of them came barrelling through as if high on N3.

After that the anti-fang mammals stopped coming in… but they were still outside, waiting.

“What are they waiting for?” the doctor asked, his voice betraying his terrified state of mind.

Judy looked at Nick who was over in the corner talking quietly on his radio, then gave a quick peek out again: “I would say… backup, and we’ll run out of darts before they run out of backup”

Getting off his radio to precinct one, Nick shook his head: “Probably. I just checked with precinct one. Pretty much everyone else got out safely. We’re the only ones being chased like this”

“What?” Aurelina barked out, jostling the doctor who was trying to stitch up her wound.

Nick looked at his three charges, his partner and the doctor: “Well… you are the three only predator members of the city council, right?”

“Hey now - There are other omnivores on the council” the martin protested, but he quickly seemed to realize the flaw in his logic… or rather, the flaw in anti-fangs logic, as Judy noted: “Sure, but that’s not what anti-fang sees when they look at you”

The uncomfortable silence that followed was only punctuated by the wolf councilwoman occasionally whining from the stitches, with the doctor admonishing: “You have to sit still – I’m not an anaesthesiologist. I’m already using the strongest topical aesthetic I have”

Once Aurelina was stitched up and bandaged the question became where to go next. Anti-fang backup could arrive any second.

The doctor’s secretary noted that they had a back door they could all leave through – but she didn’t really know where to go next.

Judy took the arctic hares paws into her own: “You should just go home – those criminals out there are looking for predators and mammals in police uniforms”

It seemed that Judy didn’t have to say that twice, the hare darting out of the door in a hurry.

This left the doctor and the rest of them. The sound of hooves crunching on glass announced that they had new guests out in front – guests who obviously didn’t know how to sneak – thus it was time to leave.

Hurrying out the back, Nick took point. Looking around, he quickly spotted a strangely familiar neon sign on the side of a building half a block away: “Yes! Everyone, quickly – this way”

A few minutes later, two officers, three city council members and a doctor stood in the front lobby of Koslov’s Borsch and Burlesque. The giant polar-bear bouncer looked at the lot with a scowl.

Flashing his badge, Nick quickly said: “Hey, go tell Koslov that Nick Wilde is here”

The bouncer simply frowned.

“…you could also tell your boss that Bellwether is back and is trying to take over the city and we need to hide the three only predator city councilmembers somewhere – now move!” Judy commanded sternly.

The polar bear’s expression didn’t even have time to change before he had run off.

Nick was about to say something when Judy put a paw to his lips: “Let me guess, he’s someone you know from before you became a cop – and he used to work for you-know-who?”

Nodding, the fox quickly glanced at the three city councilmembers, figuring that he should be extra careful of what he said: “Yes and no – Koslov went legit a long time ago. Bought this place, runs a clean ship as far as I know – worst we could probably find it that they brew their own moonshine, but everyone does that here to stay warm”

“Nick Wilde – you know that we don’t brew moonshine here – only the best kvass in Tundratown!” boomed the deep and hearty voice of a large male polar bear in a three-striped track suit.


	16. Best Served Cold

“Fuck. We’re off-script so hard… we’re not at the safehouse, but we found this other place that looks ok. Did you make it?”

…

“Come no, answer me damnit!”

…

“Please answer”

… 

The lobby of Koslov’s Borscht and Burlesque was chilly – as was most of Tundratown – but the giant polar bear standing in the door to the main hall of the establishment was bringing with him a wash of warmth and scents of spicy perfumes, rich food and plentiful alcohol from the main hall.

Squatting down, the polar bear gave Nick a knowing looking: “So… Officer Wilde – you come here with city councillors and flesh-eating rabbits and strange rumors of crazy sheep taking over the city. Why bring all this pizdec to me?”

Nick threw a quick glance at Judy, then back at Koslov: “That’s a good question – how much do you know about what has happened today at city hall?”

It turned out that Koslov knew very little – as did almost everyone else at the place. ZNN and the other news channels had stopped broadcasting from the riot when they had been swarmed by the late arriving anti-fang backup mob, and while there had been some cameras pointed at the advert screens that Bellwether had co-opted for her grand mid-day message to the city, then Koslov wasn’t one to check ewetube for viral videos.

It also didn’t help that nobody in the establishment watched ZNN regularly – because the moment they flicked one of the back-room televisions on to ZNN they were met by a closeup of Bellwether’s mug: “…grievances. So trust me dear citizens. I will ensure that peace and sanity is restored, and that no predator ever eats prey in this city again”

The camera zoomed out, revealing that she was in some kind of studio, sitting at a desk next to… Mayor Swinton?

“Now, with me I have a very interesting guest. A traito-“ Bellwether began, before Koslov turned off the television.

Judy looked at the dark screen: “Well shit”

“Alright Nick – what kind of pizdec is this?” Koslov said slowly, his expression sour.

Looking out the door into the main hall of the place, where the three councilmembers and the doctor were being served dinner and warm drinks, Nick shook his head. Half-way through his recap the polar bear bouncer popped his head: “Hey boss”

“Urod Vadim, can’t you see I’m doing something important here?” Koslov remarked with an equal mix of anger and annoyance, not even bothering to turn to face his employee.

Vadim nodded apologetically: “Sorry boss, but there’s some mammals outside who want in – they look like gopniks, and you said to come ask if they don’t look right”

Judy had no clue what they were talking about, but Nick seemed to catch on fast: “Vadim, were they wearing black masks?”

The bouncer nodded. Koslov gave Nick a curious but worried look: “Friends of yours?”

“Bellwether’s goons – the same ones we ran away from out back at the doctor’s place and city hall, after they had shot the councilwoman” Nick explained, reaching for his dart gun.

Koslov got up: “Tell them to go away, then lock the door and bring down the gate”

The duo followed Koslov’s bouncer with worried looks as he walked back out into the main hall of his business. In a word “dinner-theatre” would describe the place well, with the restaurant style tables arranged in front of a stage. A beautiful and very large rug with intricate patterns in vivid reds, black and bits of white covered the dark hardwood floor at the door to the lobby.

“Now, if Bellwether is back and in charge of these fools I would like to know what the good ZPD is doing to prevent her return from being permanent” Koslov inquired, his voice notable less enthused now he knew the full extent of the chaos that the fox had brought with him.

Judy had figured they would get a question like that eventually: “We’re working on that – part of it is making sure that she didn’t capture the city council. If she-“

“Boss, trouble!” sounded a muffled walkie-talkie from inside Koslov’s pocket. It was loud enough for both Nick and Judy to hear clearly, though arguably their hearing was a lot more acute than that of the polar bear.

Koslov instantly got up: ”What has that debil Vadim done now…”

Nick and Judy followed their host into the main hall – and quickly froze: Marie Reeds, in all black – but no mask – flanked by a rhino and a bison who were both masked, along with half a dozen smaller mammals behind them, all of them masked as well.

“Your doorman was uncooperative so he’s taking a nap” Marie noted, waving a police issue dart gun around rather haphazardly.

Now, with Koslov being a former employee of Mister Big, then the polar bear was used to helming operations that had a chance of getting raided by the police. To this end, the bear remained stone-faced as he squatted down to better see and hear the comparatively tiny capybara: “…and you would be?”

“I am High Inquisitor Marie Reeds of the Prey Protectorate’s Social Justice Courts – and I need you to stand aside while my agents here apprehend those three criminals over there” the capybara said, sounding exceedingly pleased with herself.

Nick looked at Judy, suppressing a smirk while also unholstering his dart gun. Judy didn’t smirk, but nodded back.

Koslov sighed: “Lady all I know about you is that you assaulted a TV crew at O’Chra. Everything else you just said was nonsense”

“Noncompliance” Marie said with a far too happy face as she made a commanding gesture towards Koslov, her gleeful tone hinting of the violence she and her goons seemed to expect.

The masked rhino, more than twice the size and weight of Koslov, was about to step forward – but then Koslov made a very subtle gesture that only Nick picked up on because he knew to look: With a flick of the ear Koslov signalled for the two polar bear waiters behind the anti-fang gang to give the rug they were all standing on a mighty heave.

With two loud crashes and several smaller ones, along with a lot of groaning from the floorboards, the menagerie of masked mammals was rendered from vertical to horizontal. The smaller ones, including Marie Reeds, quickly recovered, but her two biggest enforcers took a precious few more seconds to get up – and that was all Nick and Judy needed.

Two darts was all it took, one for each. The Bison and the rhino stopped moving, leaving Marie and her coterie of masked mammals her own size surrounded by polar bears, plus two ZPD officers.

“Attack!” Marie cried out, but her attempt to lead a charge quickly ended as her feet stopped touching the ground, and the angry polar bear holding her up to his face didn’t seem all that pleased.

”Put me down this instant! Or I’ll shoot!” Marie demanded firmly, pointing her dart gun at Koslov’s face.

The polar bear simply scoffed at her: “That would be a lot more intimidating if you had bothered to reload your tranquilizer gun after you shot my doorman”

Meanwhile down on the ground, Nick and Judy found that they didn’t even need to tell the remaining anti-fang goons to surrender.

Why Koslov’s business had a supply of suitably sized cuffs was not something the duo questioned, but this did leave the question: Now what?

The arrested anti-fang mammals were put into a storage room and were gleefully informed by a rather vindictive Vadim: “If you make trouble, then we only give you ice block for water and blubber for dinner”

Marie Reeds got a slightly different treatment: She got interrogated.

Positioned on a lone chair a few sizes too big for her, surrounded by councilmembers, police officers and polar bears, the capybara initially took the opportunity to remind everyone present how much she didn’t like them: “You are all going to be in so much trouble when I’m freed!”

“Oh really? And what makes you think you’ll get rescued?” Judy inquired as she paced around the capybara sitting on the can of pickled cabbage.

Squirming against her restraints, the self-styled ‘High Inquistor’ shot back: “You don’t think I came here without the rest of the Protectorate knowing where I am? I should already have checked in, so there’ll be backup sent here in no time”

Judy glanced at Nick and the three council-mammals, but it was Koslov who spoke up: “And what will your rescuers do when we threaten to kill our hostages?”

It took a few seconds before Marie figured that she and her minions were the ‘hostages’ – and the look of horror on her face said it all.

Seizing the moment to capitalize on the capybara’s dread, Nick leaned in over the chair and waved Marie’s phone about: “Tell you what, I do believe that your buddies are worried about you – your phone keeps buzzing about new messages for you on Pecker”

The phone clearly displayed text reading “New messages on App: Pecker – Unlock to check”

“Told you – now if you untie me and surrender I’ll make sure that you are all executed quickly and painlessly” Marie said angrily through gritted teeth.

“Koslov, how quickly can you call in the rest of your old crew and lock this place down?” Nick wondered out loud in a very knowing tone – as him and Koslov had already had this conversation, but Marie had yet to be clued in.

The polar bear smiled: “Most are already here, and they have brought their families… We’re clearing the the first and second floor rooms for them”

It was difficult to get a clear read on the Capybara. She was defeated, that much was certain, but she seemed to maintain her cocksure attitude, or she had done so until the last few seconds.

“Release me” Marie stated slowly, in a tone that was with in no doubt commanding, but she was ignored as Nick Leaned in into the chair: “Right, you seem to understand the situation we’re all in. You walked in on a lot of hungry and tired predators, you’ve threatened to have us killed repeatedly, so here’s the deal: You tell us how unlock your phone, and we won’t eat you”

The capybara recoiled at the offer, barely able to catch her breath before making some guttural but no doubt hostile capybara noises.

Judy spun the capibara around to face her: “You don’t seem to get it. The mayor – the real one – declared martial law, and I’m a flesh-eating and hungry rabbit… and you’re wanted for a very list of crimes—so unless you cooperate, then we’ll skip straight to sentencing”

“But I told you, she barely has enough meat on her to make a single chebureki” Koslov mock protested.

Marie obviously didn’t know what chebureki was, but she was clever enough to catch on that it was some kind of food. That her choices was cooperation or becoming dinner didn’t take long to dawn on her – and thus Nick and Judy looked on with amusement as the capybara was torn between fighting for her cause and staying alive.

The intimidation game had been agreed on in advance with the polar bears, so Koslov played his part perfectly, calling for cooks from the kitchen to bring in marinade to lather the capybara up in. As she was smeared in barbeque sauce it was clear that Marie was debating furious with herself whether to cooperate or die for her cause…

one of the cooks arrive with a wide sheet of dough, which Marie quickly found herself rolled in and then unceremoniously stuffed into an over. The capybara clearly got the message that her captors meant business with a loud click, as all eight of the gas burners in the over turned on and lit up bright blue flames all along the edge of the oven – and that message looked to be “It’s too late now”.

Nick and Judy both had to admit – they had not expected the oversized rodent to keep her cool for this long, but once the flames within the gas oven turned on Marie quickly started screaming that she’d tell them the password to unlock her cellphone.

With the phone unlocked, the capybara was tossed into the room that held her co-conspirators – Vadim cheerfully informing everyone: “She told us everything we wanted to know”

As the door into the storage room was locked, Nick and Judy `had no doubt that her compatriots would shower the capybara with understanding and kindness.

Of course, that they had her phone unlocked was far more interesting: Marie’s Pecker account was awash with messages, apparently having been set to track several obscure hashtags. The messages posted under these tags seemed to be made from disposable accounts that hadn’t really been used before, making singular messages saying stuff like “Two teams needed at Pack Street #RightousDispatch”

This left the real question of who was sending these messages – who was coordinating the anti-fang uprising?

It was almost nine in the evening by the time Nick and Judy finally bid farewell to Koslow and the council-mammals. The polar bear had promised to keep the council-members safe, while Nick and Judy had to get the phone and the information it contained to precinct one – but between the information gathered from the phone, from Marie and from her henchmen, then it was clear that anti-fang was monitoring police frequencies – so simply calling in what they had discovered wasn’t much of an option.

They would ultimately have to leave and return to precinct one, plus ideally, they had to get the prisoners in for booking once all the interrogations were done.

“Thank you, for everything” Judy said, not quite in tears, but feeling an immense level of gratitude to the polar bear.

Koslow bowed his head: “No need to thank me. This is the second time Bellwether tries to take over the city – and this time everyone knows her game… what she wants to do to predators” 

“Well we have the advantage of having some of her hench-mammals to ask…” Nick noted. 

It had been clear from her initial reactions during interrogation that Marie was a clever mammal. Nick had seen her kind of responses in countless other mammals in the past – that mix of fear and attempts of calculating a way to manipulate the situation back into her favour. Even with her having previously been coerced into giving up her phone password, she still kept trying to come out on top when spoken to again: “We’re only going to hurt you if you don’t cooperate and release us immediately”

It didn’t work – but that didn’t mean that she gave up either- despite being cuffed to a chair.

Judy quickly set the capybara straight: “You’re in no position to bargain or make threats. Now tell what you were planning to do with the city council-mammals”

“I am High Inquisitor Marie Reeds – you have no right to question me! The ZPD is over, Zootopia is under new management!” Reeds shot back, full of fire.

Nick briefly wondered if he should get a cup of barbeque sauce from the kitchen to taunt Marie with, to remind her that she had already cracked once, so he simply replied: “Lady, you’re nuts. Zootopia might have worked just fine for years with everyone keeping to themselves and their niches, but you’re trying to openly oppress predators – how do you think you’re going to get the public to submit to this?”  
The capybara didn’t reply, merely shooting Nick a very serious stink-eye.  
Judy was a little more direct, feeling the need to vent a bit: “If you still think that you have some kind of moral high-ground after all this… attempted kidnapping, assault, whatever you were planning to do to the council-mammals here. Honestly, I pity you”

“We will destroy you” Marie said angrily.

What Marie didn’t know was that Koslov had called in his old gang – polar bears, caribou and other Tundratown natives, many of whom had once worked along with him, working under Mister Big – and many of them had brought their families, seeking refuge from what seemed to be anti-fang squads sweeping the city, looking for predators or ‘prey traitors’.

The interrogations of Marie’s minions were more fruitful: The duo learned that anti-fang had stormed several of the smaller police precincts in the city – which explained the ones that hadn’t responded to the calls for backup to the city hall riot. This had also explained how Marie had gotten her hands on a police-issue dart gun. It also meant that police radio frequencies were probably being monitored… which made calling for transport back to precinct one a little trickier.

The final decision came down to staying the night at Koslov’s, then getting back to Precinct one the next day and trying to end all this madness before the whole city devolved into civil war.

Neither Nick or Judy slept well that night – despite their bellies full of Koslov’s borscht and chebureki.

Come the morning Nick called Finnick, hoping that he had hidden himself somewhere out of sight – just like he had one two years ago during Bellwether’s previous reign: “Come on…one pick up the phone”

It took four tries before the fennec answered. It probably hadn’t helped that it was about ten minutes before six in the morning – Finnick certainly sounded both pissed and tired: “Nick, I swear – I will find you and will strangle you with one of your butt ugly ties”

“Love you too Finnick – say, can you swing by Koslov’s and pick me and Judy up?” Nick replied, thoroughly ignoring the tired and angry fennec’s threats of bodily harm.

A little before seven the rusty old van pulled up to Koslov’s Borch and Burlesque. Bribes in the form of warm polar bear kvass were forked over, and thus before seven thirty Nick and Judy were back at precinct one – how Finnick was able to sneak the van past anti-fang patrols was a mystery that Judy didn’t question.

Well, they were finally outside of precinct one – getting inside turned out to be rather difficult, because there didn’t seem to be anyone responding to their pleas over the radio to let them in. In the end it took almost twenty minutes before a very tired and weary Clawhauser unlocked the front door for them, quickly locking the door behind them: “Are you two crazy? What are you doing here?”

“We’re trying to get to the bottom of this – we know how the anti-fang gangs are organizing” Judy said triumphantly, briefly tapping the pocket where she had Marie Reed’s phone.

Her good mood turned out to be largely wasted: Anti-fang groups had done a great job of keeping everyone who had stayed within Precinct one up all night – mainly via small raids and probing attacks all night. Nobody there had gotten anything resembling a good night’s sleep.

Still, with the phone – and the news of Marie Reeds having been arrested, even if the duo hadn’t brought her along – then hope among the mammals that had stayed the night were raised.

A lab-rat from forensics on too much coffee and not enough sleep quickly confirmed that the phone on its own was largely useless: “But that’s ok – Pecker logs IP addresses of all its users, even the anonymous ones. You just have to get there, get the logs, then figure out where whoever is calling the shots is”

This was of course a lot easier said than done, since there were barely enough officers left to keep Precinct one from falling to anti-fang goons.

It also didn’t help that breakfast was whatever was left in the breakroom – which wasn’t much.

“You know fluff, one thing that’s been wondering me: How did the anti-fang know to target us with snipers and stuff? I mean, we had the only three predator council-mammals on the city council with us… I get why they wanted to take them out, but how could they have known it was us? We had tinted windows” Nick wondered as the two waited for Clawhauser to get status updates from everyone else.

Judy nursed her cup of coffee: “They did say over the radio that we were the only ones being chased that much… but they also caught the mayor – we saw her on ZNN”

“I know – I just can’t figure out how they found out what cars to follow. Everyone had tinted windows when going out of the motorpool – anti-fang would have had to check… what, four dozen cars?” Nick mused.

The two agreed that it didn’t make sense. It screamed to high heaven that someone had tipped off anti-fang, but who? Nobody had known who they were driving around until they had met their passengers in the motorpool… nobody except the mammal who had organized the anonymous groupings…

Upon return, Clawhauser looked weary: “Aw man the girls holding down the south exit were barely able to sleep… those goons have been at them all night throwing fireworks and glass bottles at them, trying to get in and bust everyone in holding out”

“It’s nut’s – but tell me, where is Hornblower?” Judy asked calmly, but insistently.

The chunky cheetah pondered the question for a moment, but he seemed greatly preoccupied: “Him? I don’t know… haven’t really seen him since everyone left yesterday – I’m more worried about how we’re going to feed everyone. After dinner last night the cafeteria is pretty much empty, and none of the caterers I’ve called dare to bring food here… they all say that it’s too dangerous”

“Well we do happen to know a guy who can get through to here… I mean, he was able to drive us here” Nick said, with the result that an hour or so later Finnick had to ram through an anti-fang barricade to get into the motorpool, his van full of every kind of take-out food he could drum up at eight in the morning on a Friday.

“Nick, you’ve dragged me into a lot of weird shit… but supplying cops with a load of bean-wraps at eight in the morning on a Friday? I swear, becoming a cop just made you even crazier” Finnick said, the disbelief in his eyes palpable as hungry officers unloaded his van.

Judy couldn’t help but smile: “Oh stop complaining – you don’t want Bellwether to win this anymore than we do, and hungry cops won’t cut it”

The fennec shot the bunny a subdued but fuming glare: “Have you seen the dents on my hood? Those lunatics out there, they’re going to recognize my van now that they’ve seen me gun it into your motorpool!”

“And that’s why we’re working to shut them down. With everyone fed, we can get back to work putting a stop to this” Judy fired back, taking none of Finnick’s guff.

Indeed, with food in everyone’s bellies working on saving the city became the priority: Or rather, finding Hornblower became the priority… because apparently Nick and Judy wasn’t the only ones curious how anti-fang had known which police cars to target.

A thorough search of the precinct revealed that Hornblower seemed to have slinked away in the night. A check with the security system showed that his access card had been used to unlock a door out a bit before midnight.

“Damnit – but how could he have gotten the information out? How could he have known who to contact? I mean, anti-fang were on us pretty quickly” Judy said, her disappointment clear for all to see and hear.

A search of Hornblower’s office yielded some strange clues, namely the ram’s phone and other personal belongings.

“Ok seriously, isn’t there a rule that ZPD brass have to password-protect their phones?” Nick wondered as he poked through the apps on the device. It was mostly games.

It was then that a lab-rat poked his head into the chief’s office: “Hey you two, you came with the phone from that anti-fang lieutenant, right?”

Judy nodded: “Yes, got anything new for us there?”

“Not from the phone – but we poked around Pecker looking at similar trending hashtags… they found one called #noonstrike. It looks like a ton of anonymous burn accounts are trying to organize a big attack on the precinct, and we’ve found several other hashtags that they’re using to organize raids into other parts of the city. Some of them are posting about how many predators they’ve captured” the lab rat said, looking none too pleased about the grim revelation.

Nick put down Hornblower’s phone: “Wait, so Marie wasn’t the only anti-fang squad leader getting marching orders via Pecker?”

“That’s terrible!” Judy said, feeling just ever so slightly as if the walls were closing on her… on all of them – Clawhauser’s headcount had made her well aware that the precinct probably wouldn’t be able to hold off another attack, not for lack of darts or tasers, but lack of mammals. Very few officers had come back since yesterday’s escort runs – and hiding at home seemed like a very attractive proposition right then and there.

The question of what to do next was a difficult one: If Precinct one was to fall to the anti-fang mob then the city was effectively under Bellwether’s control. The few radio stations that were still on the air made everyone keens aware of this: “Don’t worry too much folks, because as long as that black flag isn’t flying over Precinct One we know that there are still good mammals fighting for us – but hey let’s just stay safe and indoors right now ok?”

“Oh turn that off – we’re trying to think here” Nick grumped.

Clawhauser apologetically turned a knob on the radio: “Sorry, I was just hoping for some music… all the radio stations have gone silent – it’s really weird”

“No it’s not – anti-fang are targeting city-wide communications. Hell, that they haven’t tried to shut down the internet yet is… I don’t know, it surprises me” Judy said, looking at her phone as it brimmed with worried email notifications from her family.

Nick shrugged and threw a less than enthusiastic glance over at the pile of bean-wraps that Finnick had brought in – oh he was going to be so gassy later on: “Shutting down the internet? You do realize how many ISPs there are here in Zootopia? Plus it would mess with their ability to use Pecker to organize via”

“I guess…” Judy said, knowing full well that this idle banter was really just a distraction to avoid talking about the much more pressing but far more uncomfortable topic at hand.

Clawhauser cradled a bean-wrap in his hands as if his life depended on it: “So… are you leaving?”

That was the question, wasn’t it?

“Look, Benji – if we can do this fast enough, then we can cut off the anti-fang mob’s ability to coordinate – the attack they’re planning come noon might not even happen” Judy said, forcing herself to sound hopeful.

The big cat returned the favour with a similarly forced smile and nod: “Right… but how are you going to finagle the Pecker servers? None of you are computer wizes”

“There was the technician we had over at Pecker a while ago. what was his name again?” Judy mused,

Nick suddenly had a lot more bounce in his step: “I don’t remember – but I’m sure accounting will have both that and his address!”

“Sounds like a great plan, except you know… do you think that anti-fang is stupid enough to leave that place unguarded? I mean, if all their communications are going through there” Clawhauser noted with a mouthful of bean-wrap.

And thus the duo was back to square one with the issue that precinct one had to be defended – but they would probably need help getting into the place… and getting any of the officers who were probably busy trying to defend their own neighbourhoods to come along didn’t really sound like a request anyone could accept.

“Hold on – I do believe that I can think of at least one mammal who isn’t here, who might want to come along to help out” Nick said in a smug but cheerful tone as they returned to the motorpool after gearing up at the armory.

Judy looked suspiciously at the belt-fed dart gun Nick was pushing along on a trolley – it was at least four sizes too big for the fox, so it obviously wasn’t for him.

Nick simply loaded the oversized weapon into the trunk of a police car: “Oh come on, haven’t you figured it out yet?”

The bunny found it difficult not to smile, Nick’s confidence being so damn infectious: “No – now spill”

“I figure we’ll pick up buffalo-butt and tell him that his replacement ran off. Maybe he’ll want his job back”


	17. When One Has Beef...

Delete all chatlogs? Y/N.

Yes.

Reason?

“Let’s not have Bellwether and her goons tie me into this – it’s bad enough that Swinton got caught”

Deleting.

Done.

Delete Anonichat app? Y/N.

Yes.

…

The anti-fang barricades around the precinct one motorpool driveway had barely been rebuilt after Finnick had rammed through them when Judy smashed through them in her cruiser, sending masked mammals leaping out of the way for dear life.

“You know, I never saw how Finnick got out of here?” Judy cheerfully mused while Nick fiddled with the satnav.

Three button-pushes later, Nick replied: “Didn’t you see that he left the van in the motorpool? I think he snuck out of the precinct on foot”

“But he loves that van – you said he… oh right, and precinct one is probably the safest place for it right now” Judy mused, driving past untold numbers of burnt out husks of cars that anti-fang had lit on fire.

Indeed, driving through the city on the still relatively early Friday morning was strange: There was virtually no traffic at all. The streets were deserted, everyone being afraid and staying at home.

The only mammals the duo came across with any regularity were groups of masked anti-fang mammals roaming the street. Some were raiding what looked like grocery stores, others just seemed to be out on patrol.

Checking the hashtags they had found that anti-fang was coordinating their activities on via Pecker, Nick saw a lot of chatter from those very patrols reporting that they had spotted a police cruiser at various points in the city. It was odd seeing social media posts about one-self in real time.

“Do you think they’ll try to head us off?” Judy asked, keeping her eyes focused on the road – especially in case another shooter showed up.

Scrolling through what looked like tons of inane posts on the social media platform, Nick shrugged: “Nah, this looks really uncoordinated – at worst they’re just riling each other up over seeing ‘the fuzz’ on the move. They make it sound like the whole force is driving through town”

The neighbourhood that Bogo lived in turned out to be a nice one, with rows of three story apartment buildings that looked to have very roomy apartments sized for large bovines. Finding the exact building Bogo was very easy: The one that had a dozen anti-fang goons camping outside of it made for a dead give-away.

Now, the usual tear-gas launcher for riots was way above Nick and Judy’s size – but back in the armory Nick had found what looked like an oversized flaregun for single-shot tear-gas rounds. It still looked very big on him, and he wielded the weapon like a blunderbuss, but it had the desired effect: The tear-gas round hit the ground just in front of the anti-fang group and skidded in amongst them, billowing noxious opaque gas.

Amidst the screams of teary-eyed anti-fang goons Judy calmly parked the cruiser, put on a gas-mask and the backpack with the batteries for her shockwand. Forty seconds later a dozen anti-fang mammals were on the ground with the post-taser jitters, while Nick had disposed of the tear-gas round into the sewers.

Once the tear-gas had dispersed and the anti-fang goons had been cuffed, mammals from the apartment buildings started coming out to look. A lot of them were quite obviously frightened, but at least just as many had very clear looks of relief on their faces as they saw that the law of the land was still not quite mob rule. Judy couldn’t help feeling elated from the looks of a family of bunnies that came up from their warren: the hope in their eyes was exactly what she needed.

“Hopps, Wilde? What on earth are you two doing here?” Bogo boomed – not shouting, but asking loudly and with no small amount of disbelief.

The cape buffalo looked… odd… in civilian attire. His worn jeans, the thick… three sweaters he was wearing?

“Trying to stay warm sir?” Nick quipped, having spotted Judy’s curious look at the bovine.

Bogo’s brows furrowed like tectonic plates crashing together, the wrinkles on his forehead an earthquake of very thinly veiled and restrained annoyance. With a dry retort so parched that it might dehydrate stupid mammals that asked silly questions, Bogo replied: “Field expedient riot padding”

“Right… well you can take that off. We have a riot suit for you” Judy said, all smiles and perked ears.

While it was rare to see Bogo smile, then it was even rarer to see Bogo sport a gleeful grin as malevolent as what the cape buffalo expressed when Judy popped the trunk and revealed the buffalo-sized riot armor and the belt-fed dart gun: “You brought the sewing machine”

“Sewing machine?” Nick inquired with a curious and raised eyebrow.

Bogo picked up the weapon: “Lots of needles, sewing machine – come on Wilde, you’re supposed to be good with puns like this”

“Right – well, nicknaming what looks like an industrial stapler to me isn’t really my thing, but I’m open to new experiences” 

With the anti-fang gang that had been trying to catch him dealt with, Bogo turned out to be very open to the idea of a quick raid on Pecker, though picking up the capybara technician first did worry him a bit: “That address – that’s the part of the canal district where precinct seven said there were a lot of anti-fang activity before they went silent”

Apparently, Bogo had been listening in on a police scanner. That Bogo wasn’t able to leave his work at work didn’t surprise Nick one bit.

Suited up in riot gear and with the dart-minigun so lovingly nicknamed “the sewing machine”, Bogo looked like a war machine. He made for a mighty fit in the cruiser – ZPD officers in riot gear would usually be trucked around in special riot wagons, but most of those had been used to truck mammals from city hall home.

The address of Casey Henson, capybara forensic computer specialist in the employ of the city of Zootopia’s prosecutor’s office, was not that far from Bromeliad street metro station. 

On the way the duo filled Bogo in on what had happened in his absence – and boy did he NOT like what he heard.

“What do you mean he refused to let the protestors in behind the police line!?” the buffalo roared, already incensed at what he had been told so far.

Nick let out a quick and controlled sigh: “Wasn’t much different from what he did at that park you sent us to where he was in charge – but when Bellwether showed up on the screens and the anti-fang backup turned up he was the first to call for a retreat”

“And you’re certain that they used N3 on their shock-troops?”

“Positive – you don’t forget how that kind of crazy looks” Judy remarked, pulling into the lane for the exit to Bromeliad street. There might not be any other cars on the streets, but that wasn’t an excuse to violate the traffic laws.

The view that met them was the exact kind of worst case looking scenario they had talked about at precinct one: Two dozen or so masked anti-fang mammals, half of them armed with dart guns, half of them with clubs, going house to house and trying to pull out the otters that lived there.

“Majority predator neighbourhood I take it?” Bogo said, sounding very not happy with what he was looking at.

Judy rolled quietly down the road, while Nick reloaded the gas-cartridge in his little blunderbuss: “Looks like it”

“How much ammo did you bring for this?” Bogo asked, still sounding very pleased.

Nick recalled for a moment: “Two drums – the one you got in, and one extra in the trunk – so don’t waste too much… there’s no telling when we’ll get a reload”

“Noted” Bogo said, rolling out of the still moving car, expertly coming to a halt in a crouching position, the massive gun held perfectly level and aimed at the nearest gang of anti-fang mammals – and as Judy accelerated and the police cruiser passed, Bogo opened up.

Two brief bursts of automated dart fire saw the masked mammals thoroughly pin-cushioned. The family of otters they were escorting down the road to what looked like a stockade walled off with cargo containers quickly rushed back into their home.

Judy quickly parked the car and the duo joined Bogo. The three advanced down the street towards the stockade where the anti-fang mammals quickly took cover around some concrete barriers set up at the ‘gate’ into the jail.

“Stay back! You’re got no right to come here and shoot us – we’re in charge of the city now!” one of them blared out via a loudspeaker.

Without a loudspeaker of their own they had to get a little closer before Bogo got into shouting range: “Are you taking hostages?”

The question seemed to briefly confuse the eight or nine masked mammals, and once they figured that Bogo was talking about their prisoners they started to argue amongst each other.

Judy, listening carefully, whispered: “They want to take hostages, but they can’t get the door opened – one of the goons Bogo downed has the key” 

“That means the door to their jail is locked – the prisoners are safe” Nick calmly noted, patting his gas-grenade blunderbuss.

Judy nodded: “Right. Take the shot”

One gas grenade later all the anti-fang mammals found themselves rather uncomfortable behind their cover. A few of them tried to hold out, but that just meant that they could barely see anything when they finally gave up and staggered out of the gas cloud to join their peers in surrender, with the trio of ZPD officers barely having to do anything other than point their guns at them.

Once the tear-gas had cleared the container door that made up the gate into the stockade was swung open. Judy quickly zipped in: “Judy Hopps, ZPD – You can all come out!”

With peace restored in the area around Bromeliad street, the three quickly tracked down the technician they had come for. He had been hiding in the basement of his home with his family and in-laws, terrified that the anti-fang goons might come for them next.

“Why would anti-fang come for capybaras? I understand that a lot of otters live here too, but you don’t eat meat” Bogo wondered, not aware that the capybara they had come for was a city employee and thus an obvious target.

Settling into the backseat of the police cruiser, Casey the capybara looked as if he was trying to breathe a sigh of relief – but he still looked quite stressed, if not downright harrowed, from the anti-fang sweep of his neighbourhood: “Well I work for the Downtown District Prosecutor – digital and electronic forensics. I figured they’d do to me like what they said they’d do to any cops or ‘prey traitors’ they catch”

“Fair enough. If it’s any consolation then from what I’ve seen so far, then the anti-fang groups tend to crumble at the first sign of any real resistance, even when armed with looted police weapons like what they had here – they have no idea how to use their weapons properly” Bogo said, sounding surprisingly empathetic.

The capybara nodded, but then got an expression that looked a mix of curious and worried: “Then what happened at city hall? The television cameras cut after the news crews were rushed by the second wave of masked mammals”

“We’re pretty sure that they were using some really dangerous combat drugs to win that battle. How they got those is still a mystery, but you might actually be able to help us with that” Judy quickly noted, as she drove of the last canal bridge, crossing into Savanah Central.

Explaining their need for Casey to trace some otherwise anonymous Pecker posts, the technician clearly confirmed that doing so shouldn’t be a problem – if he could get access to the servers. That part was Nick, Judy and Bogo’s problem.

Driving through the city it became very apparent that most of the anti-fang patrols were on foot – very few of them had cars to drive around in, and the few that did who tried to give chase quickly found their tires punctured by bladed darts – or the drivers simply called off the chase once it became clear that they were actually being shot at.

The Pecker HQ parking lot looked pretty much deserted, except for two haphazardly parked vans with black paint on the sides, with white anti-fang logos stencilled on top. This wasn’t the first ‘repurposed’ van they had seen like that – but it was the first time where it wasn’t parked next to a supermarket or grocery store and being loaded with looted food, likely supplies meant to be distributed to the city patrols and road-block crews.

Speaking of roadblock, then the entrance to Pecker HQ featured what looked like a barricade made up of flipped office desks, shelves and filing cabinets. The six masked anti-fang mammals that stood guard outside quickly fled inside, alerting everyone in ear-shot.

“So much for an element of surprise” Judy said with a half-sigh, drawing her police issue dart gun.

Nick simply nodded and drew his as well, plus he helped Casey turn the safety off on his – the capybara having been given one of the dart guns taken from the captured anti-fang goons on his street, before they had been put into their prison stockade for later pickup.

The large glass front door didn’t stand much of a chance against the bulk that was Bogo in riot armor, though the Molotov cocktail that flew back through the first hole in return – splashing up a nice bit of pavement behind the four – did make an impression.

“Shit, are these guys crazy? Using firebombs from inside a building?” Judy exclaimed, looking at the mix of fire and glass shards in disbelief.

Nick peeked through the glass door, trying to get a rough count of how many masked mammals there were inside: “No, they’re just scared – plus it’s a lot easier for them to see us than the other way around”

“Excellent” Bogo said in a firm and determined tone. Aiming the sewing machine towards the lobby beyond the cracked glass door, Bogo kicked at the glass a few more times, making part of it collapse into a growing pile of chunks of hardened glass and roared: “This is the ZPD. Come out with your hands or hooves above your heads and nobody gets hurt – resist and you’ll get to see what this thing is loaded with five hundred rounds of!”

Judy quickly saw the ruse that the Chief was playing: The mammals inside were only seeing a minigun spinning up – they couldn’t see that the ammo belt feed contained regular darts, not bladed darts.

Unfortunately, the hustle didn’t seem to take – if the number of rocks and glass bottles being through at the holes in the glass door was any measure.

Now, while a frontal charge through the hardened glass panes wasn’t actually that difficult, especially with most of them full of holes thanks to Bogo, then the threat of Molotov cocktails held the four agents of justice at bay.

As frustration set in, Judy looked around the parking lot. Empty parking spots in the hundreds, a fountain that needed to be cleaned, the somewhat iconic Pecker statue of a woodpecker on the side of a tree. Nick saw the smile on her face: “Fluff, what are you thinking?”

“Something stupid, dangerous and foolhardy – make sure you have a hole in the door big enough for me when I get back” Judy said, scampering off towards the fountain.

Nick looked at Bogo who just shrugged: “Oh I gave up trying to reign her in a long time ago”

“Then let’s make sure we have a hole ready for her” Nick said, pushing the urge to take a step back and think things over away with no small amount of willpower, all the while he wondered just how much having wet fur would help if someone molotov’d you.

It must have looked strange to the mammals inside, as Nick and Bogo chipped away at one of the holes in the glass door while dodging the rocks and bottles being thrown at them. Of course, that paled in comparison to when Judy suddenly came running, sopping wet, and jumped through the hole.

Once inside, the rocks quickly came flying, but Judy didn’t waste any time darting around the front desk where the anti-fang sentries were fortified. Nick and Bogo couldn’t see what happened behind the desk, but the sounds hinted of tasing, kicking and suddenly a wombat in a black balaclava came running out from behind the desk screaming, looking as if she had been nailed with a Molotov cocktail… or more likely dropped her own and simply stepped in it.

As the wombat stopped, dropped and rolled furiously, Judy emerged to unlock the front door, to which Nick quickly ran in and grabbed a fire extinguisher and hosed down the wombat.

Once everyone was inside Bogo congratulated Judy on her daring stunt. The soaked bunny happily accepted the praise – but noted that she was really cold… so they needed to find some way of drying her off.

“I’m pretty sure they have staff showers in the basement – that should mean fur-drier stations” Casey noted, having familiarized himself somewhat with the layout of the Pecker building’s layout back when he was part of the investigation into them where he met the duo.

Carefully sweeping the ground floor, the four came up empty – and they all agreed that with two anti-fang vans outside there had to be more anti-fang mammals in the building somewhere.

Going downstairs, they found a security station that Casey had a crack at while Judy and Nick went to get the bunny dried off. Upon return, the duo saw that Casey had brought the building’s security cameras back online: “I found the rest of the anti-fang goons”

“Alright, where are they?” Judy said, chafing ever so slightly under her damp uniform. Sure, her fur might be dry – but the rest of her kit? Not so much.

Casey brought up a map of the building: “Ok, I am tracking three in the cafeteria – it looks like one of them is preparing lunch and the others are packing up all the food there for transport”

“When you’re feeding an army… but ok, what about the rest of them?” Nick asked.

The capybara flicked the screen to the upper floors: “The rest are holding a bunch of suits hostage – I think it’s the board of directors. There are five of them, biggest one looks like an ox of some kind”

“Oh they’re bound to just love what we’ve done with the place” Judy mused sarcastically, considering the utterly cashed out state they had left the lobby in.

This left the question of what to do first: Go for the servers, take out the two groups of anti-fangs and free the captives? Casey solved that question pretty quickly: “The board members will probably have some admin accounts and passwords we can use – it’ll make my work a lot easier and faster”

Thus the four of them ascended up the elevator to the cafeteria. The ambush Nick and Judy carried out was swift, and left the air smelling of taser-ozone.

“We can’t just cuff them and leave them – there’s no telling when anyone will be back here” Bogo noted grimly, sounding more annoyed than concerned.

Judy wrinkled her nose at the three now unmasked mammals before her: “True… your call chief”

“I’m not chief yet – as far as I’m concerned I’m a civilian you two deputized while under martial law” Bogo politely protested, adjusting his grip on the dart-minigun.

Looking at Nick, Judy seemed unsure of what to do – being able to do away with arrestees had never really been an issue: “We did cuff the wombat down in the lobby”

“True – we could place ‘em over by the elevators and then gather them up down there for easier pickup later” Nick noted.

Later at the top floor, the four of them stalked along the hallways. Casey had somehow patched his laptop into the building’s security cameras, allowing him to direct the others to where the hostages and bad guys were.

Rounding the last corner, a lot of glass walls instantly gave them away – and the two bladed darts that came at them, punching through three panes of glass before bouncing off the fourth and last pane quickly cleared up what kind of fight it was going to be.

Judy dropped down, sneaking around under the cover of office furniture to creep up on the anti-fang mammals, while Bogo spooled the sewing machine up and began to knit a glass sweater that sent the hostage-takers diving for cover.

Nick took a more direct path once Bogo had revved up for covering fire, managing to get up to the door to the meeting room where the hostages and anti-fang mammals were. The brief glance Nick got of the hostages confirmed that most of them seemed to be ok – and of course the anti-fang jokers were there too, highly agitated by Nick’s close proximity.

A big one, some kind of deer doe, held up a smaller board-member with a knife: “Not a step closer!”

Of course, between Nick and Bogo distracting everyone, Judy had crept into a vent somewhere. Dropping down behind the anti-fang deer, Judy nailed her with a dart to the back of the neck, dropping the doe almost instantly. The other anti-fang mammals panicked – it didn’t help that it seemed to have been the ones in the lobby who had been equipped with ranged weapons, because all they had were clubs and knives, which didn’t do much against someone with a tranq gun.

A few surrenders and arrests later, and suddenly the Pecker board was a lot more cooperative with Casey and the others than they had been back when he had showed up with a search warrant.

“When did they come and take you hostage?” Judy asked, untying another board-member.

The suits all told the same story: The anti-fang goons had showed up during the city hall plaza riot, just after someone had pulled a fire-alarm. Only, instead of a fire-truck it was two anti-fang vans that showed up.

“We tried to call the cops – but they had firebombs…”

It was difficult to come up with an explanation for Judy, but Bogo cut to the chase: “That would be because half a dozen precincts were under siege at that point, by drugged up mobs of lunatics”

While the buffalo’s statement didn’t paint a very pretty picture of the state of the city, then once informed that anti-fang seemed to be using Pecker to organize through the board-members all agreed to fork over the executive override passwords to Casey.

Bogo remained with the board-members in the lobby, staying with them while the others along with the CEO Siri Lu Peng went downstairs to the server farm.

“Shush, there’s someone in there…” Judy said, her ears twitching just before they rounded a corner.

Nick crept forward, taking a peek. A moment later he made a ‘go back’ gesture to Judy, Casey and Lu Peng.

Once back at a distance where talking wouldn’t reveal them, Nick said: “There’s two of them down the hall in the main server room, our size. They have laptops hooked up to the servers, looked to be chatting”

“Did you see any weapons?” Judy asked in a hushed voice.

Nick shook his head: “No – but we have plenty of ammo, you take the one on the left”

Judy nodded, slowly. The anti-fang mammals up at the boardroom had been warned in advance via text messages from the lobby guards – so these ones were probably clued in as well. Maybe they were out in the open as part of a trap? Then again, the ones in the cafeteria had seemed oblivious to the fighting in the lobby. This was tricky, to put it mildly.

With a civilian and Casey along, and Bogo upstairs with the other board-members, then the duo knew that they would be at a disadvantage if the anti-fangs were hiding for an ambush of their own – and if they failed, then precinct one would likely fall.

“Oh to hell with all this waiting” Lu Peng suddenly burst out, getting up and stomping down the hall – as much as a petite red panda could stomp.

Judy looked stunned by the panda’s action, while Nick was more torn between admiring her initiative but he was also torn on how to quietly get to her stop.

“You lot, get the fuck out of my servers!” Lu Peng shouted down the hall once she rounded the corner.

The sound of the heavy steel door into the server farm closing shut followed moments later.

Catching up with the red panda as she casually walked down towards the very much locked from the inside door, Judy fumed: “What the hay? You wanna join the anti-fang goons we’ve arrested so far for obstruction?”

“Relax – this’ll make any mammals in there surrender” Lu Peng said, pulling out a USB drive and slotting it into a hidden USB slot between two wall panels. An adjacent panel slide up, revealing a small screen and a keypad.

Lu Peng typed in what seemed to be a lengthy password, while Casey commented in surprise: “That’s a new feature” 

“After what happened last time you were here I had this installed in secret – you need the encrypted file on the drive and my password to access it… but… here we go – full control of the server farm’s environmental systems, and the PA system inside” Lu Peng said, sounding just a tad too pleased with being able to exact revenge on some of the anti-fang mammals that had kept her hostage and effectively taken over her company.

Nick frowned: “So what’s the idea then?”

“Simple – I’ve turned off the server coolant pumps, so…” Lu Peng began, pushing the button for the microphone on the panel: “That alarm you’re hearing? That’s the server coolant pumps I’ve turned off. No you can’t turn them on again. If you don’t want to cook alive in there you’ll unlock the door and get on your hands and knees”

The small screen showed a CCTV feed from inside the sealed server farm. The two mammals inside certainly seemed rather agitated from what they had just learned, frantically running around trying to manually restart the coolant pumps. Once that didn’t work, with the display showing a room temperature of a hundred and ten already, they started banging on the door for help.

“We’re right outside the door – the only help you’re getting is if you open up and surrender to the nice officers out here with me” Lu Peng reiterated.

Nick frowned at Lu Peng again: “You do realize that if they spend their last few minutes conscious erasing all evidence of what they’ve been doing, then we would have a pretty solid case of obstruction of justice against you anyway?”

The red panda didn’t even bother to turn and face Nick, keeping her eyes on the monitor that showed the rising temperature and video feed from the server farm: “You said it yourself: You can’t afford to pick a fight you might not win here – this is the safest way to do that”

Judy saw that Nick wanted to say something back at the panda, but a tug on his sleeve gave him the message that in this situation discretion was the better part of valor.

Once the air temperature inside the server farm had reached the point where non-hardened plastics started to soften there sounded three distinct clicks from the sturdy steel door. The heat-wave that struck everyone outside in the hallway was brutal, but Lu Peng quickly pushed a few buttons, blasting the whole farm with pre-cooled air while kicking the cooling system into overdrive for a brief bit.

Inside two anti-fang hackers and three much larger goons were all panting furiously, looking well on their way to heat-stroke. Cuffs were passed around, and Casey quickly got to work.

“Ok, first priority – find out where the anti-fang lieutenants are getting their orders” Judy instructed, as Casey typed in the admin passwords that Lu Peng had provided.

Nick swiftly picked up his partner, much to the bunny’s huffed protests, and put her down so he stood between her and the capybara: “No, you want to find whatever hashtags being used to organize the planned attack on precinct one”

Judy’s protests died down the instant she realized how much more immediately useful that would be.

“Got it – this matches what you have on Reeds’ phone” Casey said, tapping Marie Reeds’ phone which was stilling getting marching orders from whoever was sending out the messages.

Nick looked around everyone present and took a deep breath: “Ok, how do we shut down this attack before it happens?”


	18. A Banquet Of Suffering

“Come on, pick up”

…

“Please, fuck… pick up! I don’t know when they’ll figure out I stole this piece of shit phone”

…

“Please…”

…

In the by then comfortably chilled underground server farm that housed the social media platform known as Pecker, Nick, Judy, the technician Casey Hanson and the Pecker CEO Siri Lu Peng briefly debated how to most effectively disrupt the attack on precinct one that anti-fang was organizing at that very minute.

“We know the tags they’re using, why not just delete all posts with the tag and ban all accounts who posts or reblogs anything with it?” Lu Peng suggested.

Judy frowned: “Might work – but we know that they’re using burn accounts, and we don’t know if they have backup accounts and backup tags set up”

“Oh that’s easy – just IP ban anyone who posted on the main tag” Lu Peng added, sounding confident in her suggestion.

Casey made a less than convinced hum: “That won’t work if they’re all using phones for this. Going from one celltower to another cycles most phone’s IP address. That would be a very temporary solution at best”

Nick pondered furiously how to exploit the situation: “Casey, have you found the accounts where these marching orders are coming from?”

“A single burn account, yes I got it right here” Casey noted, glaring intently at the monitor as if hoping that a solution would pop out from the admin interface.

Nick got that sneaky smile. Judy’s ears perked up, knowing full well that the fox only got that smile when he was at his sneakiest: “Ok Casey – here’s what to do: Hijack the account, change the password and the recovery email”

A bit of typing and clicking later: “Done – now what?”

“Issue a recall order. Say that everyone has to get back to their base of operations or something… then once those orders have been passed around, lock and block all the accounts except the ones for the frontline officers so the order can’t be countermanded” Nick said, sounding sly as only a fox could.

Everyone else paused for a moment, trying to determine if what Nick had said made sense. Casey was the first to sound off his opinion: “Sneaky – I like it. A fake order to retreat would buy us some time – but we’ll need to make it sound convincing”

“No, you make it sound urgent! We just need to know where to direct them – make them think that the ZPD is massing a counter-attack somewhere” Judy chimed in, figuring that instead of wasting time trying to mimic the exact way that anti-fang command worded its messages, that they should bet on brief panicky messages.

Lu Peng nodded: “Run the IP history of the command account’s post, where are they?”

Casey typed and clicked a few times: “Well ain’t that funny…”

“What? Where are they?” Judy asked with an increasing sense of urgency.

“Only one IP address – the cell-tower on the ZNN headquarters building” Casey noted.

It made sense now when they thought about it – it was simply a case of none of them having followed the fact of anti-fang having hijacked the ZNN broadcast signal to its logical conclusion: They had taken over the ZNN building.

“Hold on… that’s only four blocks from here” Lu Peng noted, not particularly happy with the idea of the enemy being so close.

Casey typed up a series of panicky messages commanding everyone to abort the precinct one attack and return to the ZNN building, saying that their spies had confirmed an imminent ZPD raid.

The response was immediate: The message was reblogged to hundreds of other accounts, and they in turn quickly exploded with activity – posting curious messages if anyone had seen anything. A few more account hijackings ensured that a couple of trusted anti-fang accounts told of dozens of police trucks and vans massing in the nocturnal district for a surprise attack.

“Oh that’s perfect – they’ll search for hours in the darkness looking for a police raid that isn’t there” Judy cheered on.

Once the confirmation bias had set in the herd mentality did the rest: None of the anti-fang accounts wanted to gainsay what the consensus seemed to be, so a lot of posts flew up about various groups pulling back and driving off the ZNN building or to scout out the nocturnal district.

Their job done, Nick and Judy prepared to leave. Casey wanted to stay a bit longer, to mess with the anti-fang accounts a bit more, and to do a bit more computer magic. He assured everyone else that he’d be able to get home safe by swimming through the canals all sneaky-like.

“Just document what you do to the system so my people can fix it all when this is over” Lu Peng noted sternly.

With their captives joining the arrested anti-fang goons on the ground floor, Lu Peng noted that she had left instructions for Casey on how to lock down the server farm door so nobody could get back in until she personally came to unlock it.

“Good thinking – now we just have to keep you safe” Nick said, looking out at the parking lot. Bogo, in his bulky riot gear, was escorting the last of the rescued Pecker board-members into a van. Lu Peng just barely managed to get on with them.

“Awesome – now we just have to get back to precinct one, dodge the army of anti-fangs coming back the other way, and set up an actual raid on the place to take out Bellwether and anyone else in charge” Judy said, smiling, but not sounding terribly pleased.

Indeed, driving off the trio found it very difficult to dodge anti-fang vans rushing towards the ZNN building. This was why they arrived back in the precinct one motorpool with a lot more dents and scratches than they had left with – though Nick and Bogo had popped a fair number of tires on the way as well, no doubt helping with the illusion that a ZPD raid was under way.

Once back in the lobby the three were greeted with loud cheers… by the three or so dozen officers still left standing: “Good to see you back chief!”

“Right – I need an update, what’s been happening here?” Bogo commanded.

Clawhauser quickly appeared, informing the chief that anti-fang groups had been massing around the precinct all morning – there had even been some probing attacks earlier – but suddenly they had all up and left…

In turn Bogo and the duo filled everyone else in on what they had been doing.

“Well that explains the email I got from Casey Hanson – he says that he set up a remote link to the Pecker servers, so he can do his thing from home or on the move…” Clawhauser noted.

With the breathing room that the anti-fang retreat had bought them, the question became how to end it all.

Bogo called for a strategy meeting in the bullpen.

“Alright, we have sixteen patrol vehicles, five transport vans and the armored TUSK van left in the motorpool. On the downside we barely have enough officers present to put three heads into each vehicle – If we are to storm the ZNN building and take out the anti-fang leadership there we will need more officers… we can’t do this safely with just under forty officers” Bogo stated, putting his cards on the table.

Sergeant McHorn was only other senior officer left in the precinct who was still standing – there was a lieutenant who had had gotten hurt repelling an anti-fang attack resting in an office somewhere, but she wasn’t going to be of any use any time soon. This made the rest of Bogo’s war-council regular officers, including some of precinct two’s most junior officers: Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps.

“Can we get any backup for this from the other precincts?” McHorn asked, sounding very much as if he knew that he was going to get a no.

Clawhauser shook his head: “The last updates I got was was that precinct three and five are still holding, but both are surrounded and locked down. The other precincts either messaged that they evacuated and took their weapons and gear with them to fortify their neighbourhoods, or they… you know… so we’re pretty much on our own”

“Well then… I’m open to suggestions” Bogo said, looking around at the officers present.

A lot of pained looks were exchanged – everyone knew that good ideas and clever solutions were in short supply.

A lone fuzzy paw up in the air marked a call for attention.

“Yes Hopps?” Bogo said, giving the bunny a nod.

Judy stoop up on the chair she had sat on: “Ok so… yesterday, when me and my partner drove off with three city council-mammals we ended up taking refuge in a restaurant in Tundra Town. I’m pretty sure that the owner used to be involved in organized crime, because just before we left he had called in several dozen mammals who… well I don’t exactly what they used to do, but they looked like bruisers. If we asked nice, maybe they would lend a paw to end this?”

Nick had never seen Bogo’s brows smush together like that, to which he found it very difficult not to chuckle. The hilarity was the irony of it being obvious that Bogo was seriously considering Judy’s suggestion, and indeed it was a good one, but it was clear to Nick that Bogo needed something to fully convince him: “Chief, I know the guy – she’s talking about Koslov, and his Borscht and Burlesque. Koslov went legit a long time ago, and is an active community organizer for predators and large mammals in Tundra Town. Most of the mammals he called in were concerned citizens who didn’t want to just submit to another round of Bellwether and needed a place to hold up with their families to stay safe”

The buffalo began to slowly nod, combined with a long and drawn sigh: “I really do not like the idea of recruiting former mob enforcers for this… but I’m not seeing any other ideas being put on the table”

Judy looked intently at the chief as he made his final deliberation.

“Make the call – have ‘em send everyone they can spare over here. We’ll empty out the TUSK armory and temporarily deputize everyone. I want to be able to launch an attack right after lunch” Bogo commanded, not wanting to give the anti-fang mobs time to reform around the precinct.

Over the next two hours several cars and vans went back and forth from Koslov’s place to precinct one. The anti-fang mammals manning the barricades and roadblocks quickly learned to get the hell out of the way when it wasn’t police vans coming their way – Koslov’s crew found it very fun to try to run them over.

Precinct one’s lobby quickly became a scene of polar bears clustered together singing what was either old war-songs or drinking songs – it was difficult to tell – but one thing was certain: Bogo now had a bit over a hundred officers and deputized volunteers armed and ready to storm the ZNN headquarters. Koslov had showed up with two dozen polar bears, a dozen other bears, and several dozen caribou, elk and other large mammals from Tundra Town, all of them willing to aggress towards the anti-fang.

Casey also chimed in with ongoing reports, mapping anti-fang movements in real time by tracking the phones of the lieutenants. From him everyone else learned that the recalled mobs had begun to spread out to the rest of the city – they weren’t converging on any specific location just yet, chasing ghosts. Clawhauser read the highlights from the last email: “The messages being sent around makes it sound like the anti-fang are running low on food and supplies… I guess housing and feeding a small army is like that”

“See, this is why Koslov brought plenty of borscht for everyone” the big polar bear pointed out, sounding very proud of himself.

While waiting for the last of the volunteers to get into the riot or TUSK gear they had been issued, Nick and Judy relaxed in the breakroom. There wasn’t much to do – there weren’t any donuts left, or any coffee. The only radio stations that were broadcasting was a few pirate-radio channels and the ZNN radio station which had turned into anti-fang amateur hour. The TV was pretty much the same, with anti-fang having attacked and terminated the broadcast signals of most other local channels – and the ZPD didn’t exactly subscribe to any of the larger cable packages.

At that moment ZNN was showing what looked like a panel discussion – except half the panellists were wearing black balaclavas, and the other half were obviously chained or otherwise tied up so they couldn’t run away – and it seemed pretty obvious that the captives on display were meant to be opposition strawmen. Neither Nick nor Judy even bothered unmuting the exchance – the random graphics popping every now and then said everything they needed to know: It seemed to be about economic reform… of the sort where the assets of all predators and prey-traitors (which probably sounded very similar to predator when the anti-fang panellists said it out loud) would be seized and redistributed to nice and loyal prey that towed the new protectorate line.

“Well they’re certainly ambitious…” Nick said, stirring a spoon around in his bowl of primo Koslov borscht.

Judy groaned: “Can’t you just wake me up when we’re back to normalcy again… just give me a good ol’ kitten-fiddler or something…”

“Kitten-fiddler?” Nick said with a raised eyebrow, not sure if Judy was using some obscure police-lingo or referring to an actual case.

It turned out to have been a case from about a year before Nick had joined the force, where a hippo doctor obsessed with antique instruments had been kidnapping kittens from various day-cares. They would then turn up later with surgical scars on their bellies and several feet of their small intestines missing… turned out that the hippo wanted new but authentic strings for his antique violins.

“Wow… just… hey what is it” Nick asked, his wonderment of the myriad ways in which mammals could exert cruelty on one another distracted by Judy’s ear’s flipping towards the door.

Listening for a few seconds, Judy turned her ears back to Nick: “Oh it was nothing… just heard some raised voices out in the hall”

Out of curiosity Nick poked his head out to check. It was a group of upset caribou who were displeased that they had only been issued tranquilizer darts – they wanted bladed darts, but Bogo wasn’t having any of it.

“If anyone is actually going to kill anyone, then it will be police officers doing that – that you even ask for bladed darts is all the more reason for me to not give them to you” Bogo admonished.

Their eagerness curbed by the buffalo’s stern but fair assessment, the caribou withdrew their request and Nick pulled his head back into the breakroom.

He didn’t question why Judy suddenly wasn’t wearing anything.

…

The roll-out from the motorpool was the biggest that precinct one had seen in quite some time for a single task force. Police cruiser after cruiser rolled out in quick succession, along with mini-buses and vans full mammals in riot and TUSK gear. The armored TUSK van came last – it had a special purpose, and thus had to be shielded by the others…

Several anti-fang roadblocks and barricades were smashed on the way, and upon arriving at the ZNN headquarters the cruisers spread out to form a perimeter. Everyone quickly filed out – and Bogo had to admit that Koslov’s volunteers were surprisingly well disciplined…

“Nah, that’s just a Tundra Town thing – it’s too cold to squabble over getting in line for things. Anyone who lives there learns to get with the program” Nick quipped.

The key thing that had been explained to everyone just before leaving precinct one was that upon arrival it was critical that the assault was set up and started as quickly as possible – if a black herd could be formed to counter them then they risked getting bogged down, while the anti-fang leadership might escape or call in reinforcements. They had to get this started quickly and ended quickly.

To this end a very well-padded Judy drove the armored TUSK van right into the front of the building. A heavy chain in the back was then pulled on by fifteen polar bears, Bogo, and McHorn. In seconds the truck was dislodged, leaving a nice and large hole that everyone else swarmed in through.

Sure, it wasn’t a subtle way of storming the place – but it was fast, it hit hard and it gave the anti-fang mammals no time to prepare. Dozens of black-clad mammals were caught without their hoods: They were quickly tased or darted and then left cuffed.

Sweeping the building took time – this was unavoidable – which also meant that pockets of resistance soon started to form. The problem was that they had no clue where the anti-fang leadership were located… and there were a lot of places to hide.

To solve this some of the initial captives were interrogated by the rear-guard while the front-liners swept the rest of the ground floor. Initial results were less than useless: “Screw you cops! We won’t talk!”

Looking at the feisty boar, Nick nodded: “You’re absolutely correct mister – that’s why we’ll be talking to her”

The much smaller pika girl sitting next to the boar, who was fitted with much smaller cuffs, quivered in fear.

Picking the tiny rodent up and walking to a separate room, the boar howled in fury: “No! Don’t touch her you fascist fox!”

“Well sport, if you just tell us what we want to know I’m sure he’ll bring her back in on piece” Judy callously noted, leaning up against the fuming oinker.

Muffled shrieks from a very tiny high-pitched voice just barely managed to creep out from under the door, leaving the hog trembling. Judy watched as his anger faded into desperation – she also had to silently admit that the lungs on that pika were quite impressive.

“Alright – I’ll talk! Please, just don’t hurt her anymore!” the hog finally said, cracking like an egg before Judy’s harsh gaze.

From the hog they learned that his and the pika’s duties had been as messengers since Pecker seemed to have broken down – and as messenger they did indeed know where Bellwether and her generalissima were set up. Judy quickly radio’d the newly gathered intelligence around: “All squads, converge on the third floor newsroom. It’s been set up as Bellwether’s live-in office – her general is there too”

Nick emerged from the next-door room stroking his belly: “Whelp, that was easy enough”

It took two beefy caribou to restrain the hog as he flew into a rage. Judy looked at Nick very disapprovingly.

Once the hog had been hauled off Nick explained: “She didn’t want to see him again – according to her he’s a true believer, and had kept her and several others from escaping for several days now”

“So… it’s just like the lioness’s cult?” Judy mused.

Nick’s expression changed into a more tentative, if not pained, appearance: “Ya… and according to Leslie here then our lioness is the second in command here, up in the third-floor news room”

In an exchange of tired and silent looks the two both acknowledged that the lioness probably wasn’t going to go down quietly. Judy pawed at the three bladed darts holstered in her belt without even thinking about it.

Knowing where the anti-fang leadership was made things go faster: All the teams converged on the stairwells, going up as quickly as possible. The resistance also intensified, but most of the anti-fang groups that the squads came across weren’t combatants – they seemed to be clerks, trying to set up a new city government – but the few groups that did fight back were armed with police weapons and almost all of them were drugged up on N3.

Nick and Judy only managed to encounter a single group of N3-drugged goons, and that was more than enough: Right after exiting a stairwell, their point-mammal – the polar bear that the two knew from Koslov’s place as Vadim, decked out in riot gear one size too small for him – was body-slammed by a raging hippo, who instantly began to wail on the toppled bear.

Darts would have downed the hippo very quickly, but there were half a dozen smaller mammals that surged over the two towards the rest of Nick and Judy’s squad: Beavers, what looked like a teen yak, and four bunnies. The problem with lots of small targets that moved very fast was that darting them was quite difficult – especially since they really didn’t want to hit Vadim.

One thing Nick noticed, outside of paying attention to dodging the clumsy but furious lunges from the teen yak and wearing him down with shockwand-zaps – they didn’t have infinite darts, and everyone had spare batteries – was that Judy didn’t seem to have issues taking down any of the bunnies that got near her. If anything then fighting with her own kind only seemed to make her more angry and focused.

The question wasn’t whether they would win the fight – it was how many more fights like that they would have to go through before getting to Bellwether and the lioness. Vadim was walking with a limp after the hippo, and it seemed that all the first aid boxes in the restrooms they passed had been looted and emptied out.

“At least it was only the hippo who was on N3 – I don’t think we could have taken all of them if…” Nick began, but stopped as Judy’s ears seemed to be scanning for something.

Judy took a tentative step forward, everyone waiting for her response. A twitchy nose, a tap of the foot – it was difficult to read whether what Judy was hearing was good or bad: “Down the hall, there are a lot of mammals in there…”

The signs on the wall said that down the hall from the squad was a cafeteria.

“Do we need to go through it?” Nick asked, Judy being the one who had taken a photo of the floor layout from a fire-escape plan.

The bunny didn’t nod or shake her head, instead simply breathing steadily – as if to psyche herself up for something: “No, but there’s no door into the cafeteria… and we need to go past it to get to the stairs up to the third floor”

Looking at Vadim, who was in no condition to make a break for it, and the three caribou making up the rest of their squad, Nick quickly concluded that their squad wasn’t really much for sneaking…

“This is squad four, we’re near the second-floor cafeteria – is anyone else near it?” Judy said over the radio.

Squad six and and squad two chimed in that they were close. Squad four had a slightly different report: “We’re pulling back to point three, code six”

The caribou in Nick and Judy’s squad looked a little confused: “What’s code six again?”

“That means they have injured squad members, you know – someone got hurt real bad” Judy said dejectedly, maintaining her by now quite obviously forced calm composure.

Taking a tentative step towards Judy, Nick put a paw on the bunny’s shoulder. It was tense – trembling even – which made Nick ask: “What’s on your mind fluff?”

One deep inhalation and a slow exhalation later, Judy sprung into action: “A little undercover work”

Taking the black tracksuit and mask from one of the bunnies that Judy had tazed into unconsciousness, Judy snuck into an office and closed the door. Switching her gear out for an anti-fang disguise, Judy figured that she’d try to get a read on how many anti-fang mammals were holed up in the cafeteria, what their weapons were, and whether it would be possible to just walk past them.

Nick didn’t like it – but he didn’t see much of a choice. They had to act fast and get to the third-floor newsroom before Bellwether and the lioness got away… or before the attack was repelled completely, with one squad already down.

“Alright, make some noise – make it sound convincing” Judy said, breaking into a sprint towards the doorway into the cafeteria.

Taking careful aim, Nick shouted: “Halt, you’re under arrest!” and fired an already spent dart in Judy’s direction.

The dart sailed past Judy, impeding itself into the carpet in the middle of the doorway. It made it look very convincing when Judy rounded the corner and came face to face with a lot flipped tables, with broken broom-sticks pointing out like makeshift spears. She couldn’t see any mammals peering out over the hastily made rampart, but she could hear the trembling of the broomsticks… whoever was holding them were very afraid.

Now, Judy knew that the bunny she had taken the disguise from had come from a different direction than the cafeteria, so pretending that she didn’t really know what they were doing wasn’t much of a hard sell: “Whoa… can I come in?”

From her experiences at the lioness’s commune she had half-expected it be frightened children and teenagers – but what she got was a vey old, greying and wrinkly deer doe who stood up: “You… why aren’t you out fighting?”

“They wiped out my squad! I just barely got away, come on – they’re coming!” Judy pleaded, tapping her feet furiously but also desperately.

Down the hall, Nick heard the foot-tapping. That meant no real threat. He gestured for everyone else to begin moving.

Hearing the others coming, Judy upped the ante: “Come on – they’re coming!”

The old doe gave Judy a disgusted look: “Coward! I’m in here protecting the children – you should be diverting the meat-fascists away from us!”

Judy struggled to maintain her façade. This was the first old mammal she’d ever met who had voiced support of anti-fang – it had always been young and hopelessly idealistic mammals…

“Are you the only mammal protecting the kids here?” Judy asked, not having to do much to sound incredulous. Who had organized these defences?

The doe simply throw Judy a dirty look: “Does it look like there any other adults here? Now git!”

Judy pulled out her hidden dart-gun and popped the doe, who slumped over the flipped table very quickly. Dozens of shrieks from frightened children behind the tables followed, but Judy quickly jumped up on the unconscious doe and declared: “It’s ok – I’m with the ZPD”

That only made the four dozen or so children huddled hidden behind the table barricade shriek even more so.

“Hey guys, the coast is clear – but we’ve got children in here” Judy called towards the doorway.

Once the others had joined up in the cafeteria, they moved the sleeping elderly doe over to a sleeping area that had been set up in the far corner of the cafeteria.

“They’re going to eat her!” one of the kids blurted out in terror.

Nick instantly tried to defuse the rising tension among the children, figuring that panicky kids wouldn’t just slow them down but it might attract unwanted attention: “No, no we’re not going to eat her – or anyone else – we’re just putting her to bed so she doesn’t sleep bent over a table”

“But the lioness said that ZPD means Zootopia Predator Defence – and that you catch prey and eat them” another child protested.

Judy got a very tired look on her face, something Nik wasn’t slow to notice. The kids certainly didn’t seem to want to believe two ZPD officers in ZPD outfits.

Two of the caribou managed to convince the multitude of varied mammal children that the cops weren’t there to kill or eat them they became a lot more cooperative by pointing out that they weren’t cops and how they were all friends – though when the kids then began asking for their parents things did get tricky once more, just in a different way.

“Tell me, did your mommy and daddy put on black masks before leaving?” Nick asked a teary-eyed bison calf three times his size. The calf nodded. Oh boy…

It turned out to be Vadim who managed to give the children an answer to where their parents were: “Your papas and babush-, uhm, mothers are out in the city, but some very sneaky mammals have told your parents some very tricky lies, to trick them into doing bad stuff they would never do normally”

Seeing the children nodding in comprehension, Nick quickly followed that up: “Ya, and we’re here to stop those tricky mammals from doing those bad things so nobody else gets hurt”

“Like making all the predators go to the dentist?” one of the children asked.

Nick shot Judy a worried look, but she simply shrugged with a look of exhaustion and simply gestured for him to answer. She didn’t have the energy to handle this extra craziness from the lioness and anti-fang.

“I guess – I mean nobody likes going to the dentist” Nick said, reeling internally from the notion that these children had learned about some anti-fang plans to literally de-fang all predators, or perhaps they had been told of it as the beginning of some form of indoctrination.

With four or so dozen children to suddenly manage, Nick and Judy – being in charge of their squad – had to make some very quick decisions. Calling around via radio, they informed Bogo and the other squad leaders that they had ‘discovered’ a large number of children. Koslov had some choice words for even the notion that adults joining up with anti-fang who would bring their kids in to a place like this, but Bogo cut through the chatter: “Leave two squad members with the kids and join up with squad two – we’re almost at the newsroom”

Who was to stay behind?

Looking at their squad members the choice turned out to be rather easy: Vadim was already sitting on the floor, playing with the children, and one of the caribou had kids swinging from his antlers. Of course, losing their big heavy-hitter meant that any large anti-fang mammal would become a far greater threat… but leaving the kids unguarded was obviously unacceptable.

“Alright, come on – the newsroom is pretty close to where the stairs down the hall exit to” Judy commanded as the reduced squad moved out.

Going up the stairs led to another large cubicle farm, one similar to many others they had passed through – but this one had already been cleared by squad two who was just down the hall.

Linking up with Sergeant McHorn and his squad, the duo quickly observed that McHorn’s squad had been through a lot more fighting than they had. The rhino had several new scratches on his horn, and they were low on darts.

Sharing their ammunition, they moved towards the newsroom.

“This is squad one, we’re in position at point A” Bogo announced via radio. Over the next five minutes the other squads got to their positions, at various entry-points to the third floor newsroom. This had been set up like a by the book police raid. The plan was to lead with flash-bangs, then move in quickly and dart everything that moved.

Of course, no plan ever survives contact with the enemy. 

“On three, one… two… three!” Bogo counted on the radio. The sound of doors being busted in followed, except for McHorn’s squad who had been tasked with going through a drywall and entering via the newsroom toilets. There the rhino took front, charging into the thankfully thin office drywall. The crash didn’t make much noise, and the sound of fighting, screams and general combat coming from the door into the newsroom proper…

Rushing in, Nick, Judy, Mchorn and their tundra-town volunteers quickly fanned out and joined in the fight: There were at least three dozen anti-fang mammals making a last stand, including a certain lioness with an aluminium bat, all of them wearing stolen ZPD body armor.

Police academy training did not cover all out brawls. Riot training always assumed a battle-line, and one on one combat training usually assumed that there was room to fight. Of course, Nick had seen a lot of things in his time – and Judy had helped break up enough bar-brawls to not flinch at the sight of dozens of much larger mammals stomping around. The real issue was the deputize civilians: They had no real training for this kind of situation – even if they might once have been mob enforcers - and it was obvious that most of the caribou were just trying to stay back – not that the drugged up anti-fang lunatics were going to leave them alone.


	19. Your Last Meal

There were caribou being dogpiled screaming for help, the sound of antlers angrily clacking into other antlers, the dull thuds of smaller mammals being slammed into walls by roaring polar bears, the electric sizzle of tasers and the brief – almost inaudible – puffs of dart guns.

One thing that worked in the ZPD-side’s favour was that all the drugged up anti-fang mammals fighting them weren’t doing anything to cooperate with each other – instead they kept bumping into each other, getting tangled up in their own swinging fists, antlers, horns and clubs – while the mammals they were fighting were much more open to the idea of helping each other.

This was one of the main weaknesses of N3 use: It made you really easy to bait into bad situations, provided that your opponents had prepared for it, because you would lose all fear of doing anything wrong – and Nick and Judy exploited this fully, tripping up many an anti-fang goon, allowing others to jump them and jam a tranq dart in between the stolen police body armor the goons were wearing.

Still, despite the best of tactics a lot of mammals on both sides got hurt. Nick and Judy got their share of pain as well – Nick ended up getting pinned by a darted cow falling on him, and Judy got hit by someone or something at one point, sending her flying into a wall which put her out of the fight.

It was honestly difficult to see who was fighting who, at least until most of the dust settled.

A sharp and aggressive howl from the lioness, pinned on her stomach in an arm-lock by a very scratched up Bogo in even more scratched up riot armor, sounded the final defeat of the anti-fang mammals, as the last of the drugged up anti-fang goons went limp from a dart somewhere.

After helping downed comrades up – and bandaging those who were bleeding where possible, Judy limped over to the lioness who just kept struggling – though whether her continued resistance was from dogged determination, insanity, or N3, was difficult to get a read on.

“Let me go you fool!” the lioness hissed, trying to wiggle – but Bogo wasn’t budging an inch.

The buffalo gave the lioness a squeeze: “Please explain how insulting me is going to make me release you”

The lioness didn’t have much of a reply – and when Judy slapped her across the nose she had her attention drawn to the bunny instead.

“What’s your name” Judy asked, fiddling with her belt.

The lioness just shot Judy a dirty look.

Pulling a bladed dart out of her belt and loading her dart gun, Judy inspected her weapon: “What is. Your name?”

“What’s it to you?” the lioness said with a remarkable amount of spite, considering the situation.

Judy pointed her dart gun at the lionesses forehead: “It’s mainly a matter of curtesy. I want to know what name we’re supposed to put on your body-bag”

“Judy!?” Nick cried out, struggling to out from under the unconscious cow he was half-way stuck under.

Bogo gave Judy a discerning look, accompanied by what might look a bit like a frown, saying: “Capital punishment is rather harsh Hopps. What are her charges?”

Judy sat down on the arm of a darted anti-fang bison: “Well, let’s see: She effectively broke out of prison via multiple assaults with a deadly natural weapon, plus all the other charges from last year. Her assaults injured four mammals and hospitalized three of them. From the hog and the kids we know that she’s basically the second in command here, but we know that this has been going on since before Bellwether joined them, which means that we can hold her responsible for a lot the rioting and most of what has happened the last few days. That probably amounts to several counts of terrorism, multiple counts of attempted murder, attempted murder of police officers, the organized capture of predators, all the looting we’ve seen, plus everything else we’ll probably uncover after all of this over… is sedition even still on the books?”

The lioness simply hissed at Judy, seemingly oblivious to the severity of her charges.

Bogo, maintaining his tight hold on the lioness, nodded his head from side to side: “Well that certainly is serious – I can see why you want her put down”

Nick couldn’t believe what he was seeing, or hearing. A caribou gave the cow on top of him a mighty heave, releasing the fox and allowing him to hobble over to Judy and Bogo: “Hold on – have you two gone crazy?”

“It’s called martial law Wilde, you were there when the mayor authorized you. Her rights to a fair trial went out the window the moment that happened – which wouldn’t have happened if they hadn’t laid siege to city hall and demanded all predators submit to their tender mercies and internment camps” Bogo pointed out, demonstrating a remarkable ability to speak calmly despite straining to keep the lioness restrained.

Taking a step backwards, Nick shook his head. This was all just too much. None of the polar bears or caribou seemed terribly shocked by Bogo’s explanation.

“So what’s it going to be. An un-named grave where nobody will know it’s you – or what?” Judy said, her dart gun still pointing quite squarely at the lioness’s forehead.

Her mind remaining resolute on the point of not surrendering, the lioness only responded with some very colourful expletives, but her body had evidently tired, because Bogo didn’t look as if he had use as much force to keep her immobilized.

“You know, I don’t feel bad for you – I feel bad for your family, just like I did first time we arrested you. Your parents at least deserve to know where you are, but that’s your choice – bye” Judy said, her index-finger flipping down the trigger.

Suddenly a door burst open. It was one of the doors to an office adjacent to the newsroom. Bellwether, with a dart-gun held point black to Mayor Swinton’s temples shrieked: “No! Don’t you dare!”

The summary execution of the lunatic lioness instantly found itself on pause. Dozens of eyes and ears turned to focus on the runty ewe.

Judy, keeping her firearm trained on the lioness, shot the convict ex-mayor a look most foul: “I was wondering when you’d show up”

With a dart-gun held to Mayor Swinton’s head, Bellwether looked rather agitated: “Let her go!”

Everyone froze and looked at Bellwether and Swinton. The ewe looked as if she had been wearing the same set of by now somewhat dirty clothes she’d been wearing since being ‘kidnapped’ from her house arrest, and Swinton looked like she had been put through a meat-grinder: Naked, covered in bruises, missing teeth, right eye swollen shut and her right arm looked… wrong… as if it had been twisted at broken.

Bogo shot the former mayor a somewhat amused look: “I would - if you had loaded your dart-gun with a bladed dart and not a tranquilizer…”

In a blur of speed and russet fur Nick rushed the ex-mayor, knocking the current mayor over in the process. Between pig, sheep and fox the three mammals tussled and struggled for control of the weapon. The puff of a dart-gun going off signalled both the end the threat – but it also begged the painful question of who got hit.

“I who what sleepy fun” Nick barely managed to say, drifting off into blissful slumber with a tranquilizer dart in his shoulder.

Her firearm discharged and her hostage effectively liberated, Bellwether stood alone – only able to witness the execution of the lioness.

“Tell me, what’s your end-game here? What was going to happen to all the predators your goons were rounding up throughout the city?” Judy asked, reasonably certain that she wouldn’t like the answer, but internally certain that if the lioness hadn’t been planning anything worse than re-education camps then she would settle with switching to a tranq dart.

“If it eats meat, it gets buried in peat” the lion mouthed off, smiling way too much. It was impossible to tell if she was high, insane or something else. This was not what Judy had wanted to hear at all.

Bogo nodded.

For Judy it was just a simple pull of a trigger. To protect so many, it was such a simple act: To end one mammal, ending a threat to so many more. It certainly wasn’t what she had signed up for when she had shown up at the ZPD police academy – but she had learned since then that not all mammals were open to reform, open to giving up their criminal habits. Some mammals just liked exploiting others, or had the strange and unacceptable idea that it was ok to force others to obey their whims. Nick hadn’t seen that kind of grotesque behaviour yet, at least as far as she knew… and that he had to see it from brought her to tears – but she knew she had a duty to the city and the mammals that lived in it: “I’m sorry Nick”

It didn’t really make much of a sound. The bladed dart punched through the lioness’s forehead with effortless ease. Just a tiny bit of feather fluff from the tail end of the dart still poked out, plugging up the wound so there wasn’t really any blood leaking from it.

Bellwether sank to her knees, letting a long wailing: “No!!!”

…

Not being awake for the event or the immediate aftermath, Nick had to learn what had happened after the fact. He wasn’t awake to see Bellwether toss aside her dart gun, rush to the dead lioness and cradle her head in her arms. He didn’t see or hear her weep.

He was not there when Judy was put before the cameras for a city-wide television and radio broadcast, but he did see it as a video later because it was recorded and shared many times on social media:

“Mammals of Zootopia. My name is Judy Hopps, ZPD. The leaders of anti-fang are either dead or under arrest. Every mammal in Zootopia who is still running around in one of those black masks needs to very carefully consider the consequences of their actions. We know that anti-fang groups have been rounding up predators in make-shift prisons – but that ends now. Put your mask away and resume whatever life you had before. Hope that we don’t track down who you are – but know that we will investigate every mammal-rights violation that we hear of”

It took time for Zootopia to return to some semblance of normalcy. Mayor Swinton stepped down from her position, her wounds – both physical and mental – from being in captivity of anti-fang had left her unable to do her job. Council-mammal Aurelina Canidae stepped up as interim mayor pending a new election, though polls quite showed her as a favourite to win, even with her own injuries making work at city hall a tad more difficult than it usually was.

Tracking down the worst of anti-fang and who had helped fund their rise to power turned out to be both quite difficult and quite easy. Several anonymous informants, likely former anti-fang supporters, turned over a wealth of financial information showing a lot of embezzled public funds having gone to anti-fang organizations. Sure, finding the exact root of who had done what was difficult – but it allowed for the recovery of a lot of unspent funds. At the same time then tracking down the scores of mammals who had taken part of the anti-fang attacks and squads and rounding up of predators proved very difficult: Nobody really wanted to admit guilt – obviously, but DNA from discarded balaclavas meant that a lot of mammals had trouble explaining their whereabouts the last few days.

Sure, there were plenty of anti-fang mammals who had been captured during the whole event – but every know that countless others had gotten away with it all seemingly scot free.

Of course, of all the mammals who had gotten hurt, of all the mammals who had lost something during those twenty-four hours of nightmare, the one who seemed to have suffered the most turned out to be ex-mayor Dawn Bellwether.

Pried away from the corpse of the lioness and put in chains, a later medical examination confirmed that she had been exposed to N2. Interrogation revealed that it had been the lioness’ doing. The interrogation videos were released to the public:

“Please! When will the funeral be? I need to know!” Bellwether said with a tear-drenched face, her orange prison garb in stark contrast to her white wool.

The interrogating officer could only be seen from behind, but a pair of tell-tale bunny ears did pop up: “She’s still on ice at the city morgue. Without an ID we haven’t found any next of kin to claim her”

“I’ll claim her!” Bellwether said, her voice quaking on the verge of crying.

The interrogating officer shook her head, bunny ears flopping about: “You can’t. You’re not married to her or any kind of next of kin – plus you’re going back into house arrest, until the DAs can figure out if we’re charging you with anything new”

“I don’t care if you throw the book at me – just let me give my little love-lamb a proper burial!” the ewe pleaded.

The interrogating officer asked: “Love-lamb? You two were… lovers?”

Bellwether nodded: “Of course! I mean, at first I hated her and her minions for kidnapping me – but that was just silly, can’t imagine why I’d ever recent her like that. First thing she did was sit me down and give me a proper meal all alone with her. She then told me her plans and how she was upset about Pro-Tech, and suddenly it just… I mean… I’ve never even really been into women before, but it was just amazing!”

The interrogating officer shifted uncomfortably while Bellwether seemed to blush quite heavily. The interrogation session ended seconds later.

…

It rained that evening, poured one might say. Judy looked out the window, down into the street, while nursing a large carrot.

“Come on fluff, it’s been three weeks – are you still going be moping about Bellwether?” Nick said from the comforts of the couch.

Judy wrinkled her nose, looking down at the carrot: “I just… that could have been either of us. I can’t shake that”

“Relax Judy – we’re fine” Nick exclaimed, stretching and yawning a bit.

Judy turned to Nick, her expression sour: “Yes, we’re fine – because we got lucky. Right now Bellwether is sitting in that house crying. She’s been doing nothing else for almost two weeks. The last update I got from her caretakers was that they were considering committing her, because she’s increasingly refusing to eat”

“I know, I was there – but… you’re afraid one of us will end up like that if the other gets hurt?” Nick said, getting up and approaching the bunny.

Judy was about to say something, but Nick had intercepted her in a tight hug: “We don’t know if that’ll happen – nobody really knows how N2 works yet…”

“I know… I know that we don’t know – and it’s killing me! I don’t want to end up like her” Judy said, resting her head on Nick’s chest.

Stroking her down her ears, Nick drew in a deep breath: “Oh bunnies… so emotional”

“This is serious Nick, don’t be like that” Judy said, sounding upset but also equally despondent.

Kneeling down to get face to face with his girlfriend, Nick held Judy by her shoulders: “No, no it’s not serious. We don’t know if we’ll end up like her, and if you let that fear consume you it’ll eat you up inside”

Judy looked at her lover-boy and found it very difficult to say anything back to him. It was difficult enough to hold back her own tears.

Leaning in, Nick planted a kiss on her nose.

“It just… I know we won, saved the city… but it doesn’t feel like we won” Judy said.

For a brief moment Nick had to entertain a similar thought: Just how ‘happy’ was he about how Judy had executed the lioness? Or was it the N2 that was making him be happy about what she had done? Had what he had said just before been what he really felt, or what the N2 made him feel?

Ultimately Nick shrugged: “You told me that the aftermath of the original nighthowler case was just like that. Loads of prey that didn’t want to admit that they had been treating predators badly during it – same thing happening now, but this time they can’t pin it all on Bellwether. It’s making everyone do a bit of soul-searching”

“Stupid clever reasonable fox… why aren’t you freaking out about this like I am?” Judy said, sounding a lot less upset than just before.

Giving Judy another kiss on the nose, Nick stood up and dropped his pants: “I never claimed that I’m not freaking out – I just get regular bedroom reminders that life is good and worth living – would you like one too?”

Judy chuckled as she bounded towards the bedroom: “Sure, screw my brains out until I don’t feel bad anymore”

“…but Judy, you know I can make you feel good pretty quickly”

“Yes, but I didn’t say you had to stop when you got there”

“Clever bunny”

“Stupid sexy fox”

…

“Got a new phone?”

“You – yes, yes I did”

“How is arm coming along?”

“They said I’ll get most of my use of it back, what about you shoulder?”

“That was just a flesh-wound. How about your therapy?”

“Ok… I guess… it’s really hard to talk about what they did to me back there. I don’t want to talk about it”

“That’s fine. I’ll make sure that the city pays for everything… that’s the least I can do in return for everything you did for me” 

“Of course… Mayor Canidae”


	20. Epiloque

While order was restored relatively quickly, then historians would debate endlessly for decades whether Zootopia ever did ‘heal’ from the event.

Scores of mammals ended up getting prosecuted and convicted for being part of the anti-fang uprising. Most of them cut deals for reduced sentences, in exchange for giving up other mammals. There were no shortage of claims that innocents were being framed, but at the same time pretty much everyone in Zootopia ultimately had to face the fact that they probably personally knew someone who had donned the black mask.

The parents of the children found at the ZNN headquarters were particularly put on public display as everything wrong with what anti-fang had tried to bring about. Unable to simply ditch their masks and resume their ordinary lives, they had to come crawling back to get their children – and thus had to face the music. A few particularly callous souls didn’t show up, but social services managed to track them down.

This all led to some very public trials of the anti-fang lieutenants who had led the predator-sweeps where anti-fang groups had gone into neighbourhoods and rounded up predators and any ‘prey traitors’ they found. 

Marie Reeds in particular made for a grand spectacle, the evidence against her more than enough to bury her, but the capybara maintained her position throughout the trial, to the point that her judge and jury all agreed that throwing the book at her felt like far too little far too late: “In my many years as a judge in Zootopia I have seen many mammals charged of many things, but I have never met someone so unapologetically cruel and willing to hurt others. Even Dawn Bellwether at last limited her targets to predators – you intentionally targeted prey that didn’t submit to you just as much as you targeted predators. It is my deepest regret that I can only sentence you to life in prison, though I do take solace that I will stipulate in your parole requirements that you must completely abandon your militant activism in order to be let out”

As more and more of the trials came and went, the city had to face the ugly fact that there had undoubtedly been someone spreading anti-predator ideas and notions among them. In particular this happened around ZU, with the trial of the bike-lock basher. Next to Marie Reeds, then former professor Spytlik quickly became known in the press as an unapologetic predator-hater, who had used his position as teacher to indoctrinate his students. For ZU this ultimately meant a massive revision of their entire sociology department, with a lot of previously isolated academic bubbles finding themselves exposed to a lot more public scrutiny than they would have liked.

It was similar stories across the city as the pendulum swung the other way, some predators once more feeling slighted and deserving of retribution. The ZPD certainly noticed the uptake in late night assaults and robberies done by groups of predators on lone prey in some parts of the city.

Thus, the city crept back towards some semblance of normalcy – though everyone knew that it was impossible to ignore what had happened. The soft cries of Dawn Bellwether could be heard every night from her fortified domicile – weeping for a lost love that will haunt her for the rest of her days, and next week another freak will show up on O’Chra while Professor Mulberry will cook up another batch of his own bacon. 

Everything’s back to normal, right?


End file.
